My flight was returning to St. Louis from a National Speakers Association convention in Phoenix. I was trying hard to concentrate on some writing, when, out of nowhere, the flight attendant walked up to me, slapped my chest/nametag, laughed and walked away! And because I was deeply immersed in my creative thoughts – I jumped so high I nearly hit my head on the television screen!
But I didn’t make a fuss. After five years I’ve become accustomed to these violations. Yet, I’ve never come to understand this phenomenon: why is it that complete strangers feel it’s acceptable to touch, slap, poke and pull on my nametag, when it would be just as easy to simply say, “Scott, do you know you’re still wearing your nametag?”
Luckily for the flight attendant, she happened to violate someone extremely friendly and forgiving who didn’t call the airline with a customer complaint.
On the other hand:
“Make a customer happy and he’ll tell five people. Make a customer upset and he’ll tell twenty people. But make a speaker and a writer upset, and he’ll tell thousands of people for the next 20 years every time he gives a speech or writes a book.”
Anyway, that incident is in the past. I don’t want to call needless attention to the actual name of the flight attendant or the particular airline.
LET ME ASK YA THIS…
When was the last time your personal space was violated?
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Scott Ginsberg
Author/Speaker/That guy with the nametag
www.hellomynameisscott.com
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