NEO for Customers Part Two: The Basics

by Tracey Flower

Hello and welcome back to New Employee Orientation for Customers. In my last post I discussed the notion that some of the folks I have come in contact with over my years of serving coffee have forgotten (or perhaps never learned) how to behave in public places. So I decided after a New Employee Orientation class I recently attended for my current job that perhaps the general public could benefit from hearing the some of the same tips and reminders I was given in that course. Let’s get started.

Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. While bartending at a restaurant on top of the mountain last winter a woman asked me if we served lattes. Before I had a chance to respond, she said something along the lines of “lattes are, you know, the ones with all the milk.” Her tone of voice suggested she thought she was talking to a toddler. Now of course this woman had no idea that I’ve worked in coffee shops since college and have made (and drank) about a bazillion lattes in that time. I didn’t expect her to know that. But the presumption in her tone that I was either an infant or an idiot offended me.

The woman running the orientation class spent a good portion of it discussing how we should talk to guests, she even gave us a list of everyday lingo we should avoid using (words and phrases such as “hello” and “how’s it going”). Apparently we are to assume our guests are well-educated and we must talk up to their level. Similarly I would like to ask our guests to assume that I too have half a brain and would appreciate it if you spoke to me accordingly.

Your mother (or maid or husband or wife or personal servant) doesn’t work here so please clean up after yourself. It was stressed in orientation that as employees of Vail Resorts and the Arrabelle we’re expected to dress and present ourselves a certain way; neat and tidy uniform, no visible piercings or tattoos, no unnatural hair color, and we must always appear clean and smell freshly scrubbed. It seems like a no-brainer that one should not come to work un-showered but I suppose there is some idiot out there who made a habit of it and out of fear of encountering more such idiots, they decided to take action.

The same goes for cleaning up after yourself in public places; it should be a no-brainer. Yes it is part of my job to keep my workspace clean, to buss tables and sweep the floor but it’s just rude and sloppy to create a mess and make no effort to clean it up. If you drop a napkin or a straw wrapper on the floor (right next to a trash bin) please pick it up. If your kid spills an entire hot chocolate on the floor please apologize and let me know and I’ll clean it up (see, there’s that symbiotic relationship respect thing). And for the love of God people I don’t know what is happening in public restrooms across America but after a summer spent cleaning up you-don’t-even-want-to-know off the toilets in Starbucks I am baffled. The only two conclusions I can draw here are that either your bathroom at home is disgusting or there is someone waiting outside to clean it after every time you use it. Whatever the case, please have a little respect, if not for me who has to clean up after you, then at least for the person who enters the stall next.

No cell phones while ordering. In orientation it was made clear that the use of cell phones by employees is strictly forbidden in guest areas. I get this. It’s common manners and easy enough to abide by (just because you can talk to anyone anywhere doesn’t mean you should). So I ask you, dear customer, to please please pretty please extend the same courtesy when you’re ordering your coffee.

While this list is certainly not exhaustive I consider these three points to be at the very top of the list and I think if we all took the time to consider them in restaurants, coffee shops, or even the supermarket we would all be on our way to more pleasant customer service experiences. Check back next week for my third and final post in this series.


Do you have a funny/horrible/heartwarming customer service (as either the one serving or the one being waited on) story to share? Is there anything you would add to this list?

New Employee Orientation for Customers Part One

by Tracey Flower

There was a very impatient woman in Starbucks the other day. It was a slow Sunday and there was only one customer ahead of her, I was busy listening to the requests of customer number one when Impatient Woman interrupted to suggest I make her drink first. I told her that here at Starbucks we try to operate on a first-come first-served basis and since there was no denying that customer one was, indeed, first, I was going to make her drink first. She retaliated with something along the lines of, “ok but I’ve got a cranky two-year-old outside.”

This is coffee not brain surgery, no need for impatience. (Photo credit).

That wasn’t the first time Impatient Woman had been in Starbucks in the last few weeks. The first time she marched up to the cashier stand to order, oblivious to the line of people waiting who were there before her. She used her two-year-old as an excuse that time too. Personally I’ve never seen the kid and I’m not totally convinced he exists, if he does I’m not sure why she’s parking him outside alone (which is what I assume she’d done given her frantic state). Either way I, quite frankly, don’t care. If Starbucks was an emergency room and her two-year-old was bleeding or dying her behavior would be appropriate. But it’s not. Starbucks is a coffee shop and there’s just no need for that kind of urgency there, especially when it involves a phantom child. This woman is just one example of what us Starbucks employees deal with on a daily basis. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps some people just haven’t been taught how to behave in public places.

I recently attended New Employee Orientation for the Arrabelle resort. (There are two Starbucks in Vail; both require you to be an employee of the Arrabelle, which is owned by Rock Resorts, which is owned by Vail Resorts). The seminar included a tour of the extravagant Arrabelle hotel and residences, a catered lunch, and a laundry list of dos and, mostly, don’ts for Arrabelle employees. I left feeling like I had left a little of my soul under the table in that conference room and wondering why such presentations aren’t given to those who don’t work in the service industry but enjoy visiting such establishments. You know, a sort of New Employee Orientation for guests.

In orientation we were asked to share stories about ourselves as guests and give specific examples of both good and bad customer service we’ve experienced. I would like to ask the guests out there to do the same, except consider how the customer treated the employee in those situations. Respect, patience, and common courtesy go both ways and, just as everyone has experienced poor customer service, I think everyone has also witnessed the reverse. The relationship between barista and coffee-drinker, front desk agent and guest, lift operator and skier is a symbiotic one, we need one another and we couldn’t exist without one another in these situations. And just as sometimes I need to remind myself of that fact and shape up my attitude when I’m at work, I think folks on the other side of the counter should do the same from time to time.

It’s my personal belief, and one widely shared among those in service and hospitality jobs, that everyone should have to work a customer service job at least once. Since I really don’t see that happening, I’d like to take it upon myself to offer a few suggestions for making folks’ experience as a customer a more pleasant experience for all of us. I’m going to make this a three-part series so stay tuned as I intend to share my little nuggets of wisdom with you in my next two posts. In the meantime, read about two eccentric yet well-behaved customers I waited on in the past in One-way Ticket to Denver and Romanian Mami.

From Ending to Beginning

by Tracey Flower

There’s something in the air around here at the moment (and, no, I’m not talking about all the recent engagements of certain Vail couples I know, I think that must be something in the water). There’s something in the air that just arrived in the last week or so. Can you smell it? Can you feel it? Somewhere in the last couple weeks the seasons clicked and we moved from summer into fall. We had summer, it was really hot, sunny and wonderful and I’m quite sure there are some oh so sweet Indian Summer days in store for us in the months to come but there’s something in the breeze now that is whispering the end of summer.

Fall in Vail: I'm looking forward to days like this one

It’s been rainy and notably cooler in Vail recently and, while afternoon storms are a trademark of late-July early-August weather around here, the way the clouds have been lingering in and around the peaks and valleys before and after the rain just looks like fall and seems to promise snow. A friend of mine said he even saw a dusting on the Gore last week. The nights and early mornings are cold and even though I still felt hot sitting in the sun outside my apartment today, the breeze rattling the soon-to-be yellow leaves on the aspens around me was marked with a chill that wasn’t there a week ago.

I have to admit that I love this time of year, I love that slight chill and those cool rainy days, but man I love summer even more and this weather’s got me really thinking about just how fleeting summer is here and just how sad I am to see it go this year.

A few weeks ago I spent my days off floating down the Colorado River and hiking up Vail Mountain. By my Sunday night I was covered in mosquito bites, a little sunburned and exhausted. Now I know there are all sorts of warnings out there about both mosquitoes (West Nile!) and sunburns (Melanoma!) and I generally try to heed the advice of medical professionals but, as I relaxed with a glass of iced tea in my third floor (meaning very hot) apartment, I realized I felt so warm, summery and happy in that moment almost because of those dangerous ailments. Ok maybe all the sunshine, heat and river water contributed to my summery feeling, but my bites and burns reminded me of being a kid in summer.

Summer is such a carefree time when we’re children, when there’s no school or job to worry about and the months of June, July and August are practically endless; when we fall into bed at the end of the day, bites, burns and all, exhausted after a sun-soaked day of running through sprinklers and chasing ice cream trucks. As an adult I think summer is one of the only times (next to Christmas) when I feel like I can truly channel some of that pure childhood bliss.

I love summer. I crave summer. And this year especially I needed summer. I needed some childlike simplicity, even a tiny bit, in my life. The last month of sleepy hot summer days has confirmed I made the right decision by not staying in Melbourne. I might still have some more healing to do but summer in Vail has been so helpful and healing for me so far that the last couple days have scared me a little. I keep thinking I need more time with summer this year.

I went to a yoga class this morning (for the second time ever, the last time being years ago, this time with the intent of making it a routine) and the instructor talked about cycles. She mentioned how we often don’t notice beginnings; they’re often hidden in the wake of an ending and we don’t know we’ve started another cycle until we’re already in it. This thought has stuck with me all day and I can’t help but think about how it relates to the seasons at the moment. It’s technically still summer and will be for another month and a half but I have a feeling that hidden in there somewhere is the beginning of fall and, as I desperately cling to summer and as I continue to muddle my way through a definite ending, I’m also going to try to find some footing and assurance in the idea that it's very possible I’m also working my way through a beginning.


Do you think there's a beginning hidden in your life right now? 

All About Family

by Tracey Flower

In my last post I talked about how my friends and I are all growing up and I mentioned some of the events of the last couple years that helped lead me to that conclusion. After I wrote that I got to thinking about those events and more, and I realized I don’t want to mention tough times without also talking about the people who have helped me through them. I’m talking about family here, both the people who I am tied to because of birth and blood and the people I am tied to because of friendships that have weathered time and, well, growing up.

I love being alone but I hate being lonely. This has been true for most of my life but I’ve only realized it in probably the last five years. I’m still trying to figure out how to maintain a balance between being alone and being lonely. I’ve always been content to entertain myself, whether spending time alone was something I elected to do or something that found me. The older I get the more I seek it out. The older I get I also realize more and more that for all the time I spend alone I need to give myself an almost equal amount of time with other people. I’ve also realized I gain more from my time alone when it’s balanced by time with others, it’s more purposeful and I appreciate it more. I think, perhaps, had I known that secret during my teen years I might have spent at least a little less time being so very depressed in high school.

Thing is I didn’t have the family structure in high school that I have now to be the un-lonely weight on the scale. Yes I had my mom, dad, and siblings and one or two good friends but even those relationships weren’t as strong then as they are now. Truth is it’s very difficult to have the kind of relationships we have as adults in high school, the kind of relationships that form when we decide to care less about appearance or background and more about who a person is and how we both benefit from what one has to offer the other and the world; the kind of relationships that keep you from sinking or floating away during the darkest of dark moments.

I have that now. I wrote a few months ago, after I left Vail for Australia and before everything fell apart, about how I realized that Vail is home for me. With that came the realization that my friends in Vail are family to me. We celebrate holidays together, take vacations together, live together, and work together. We’re all different kinds of people from different places and, like the people who share my DNA, we’re sometimes very different, we sometimes annoy one another, and we don’t always get along but somehow there’s an inexplicable love that binds us. In retrospect that realization couldn’t have come at a better time, I’ve never needed home or family more than I have in the last few months.

In the wake of my heartbreak came messages, phone calls, and support from all the people in my life I consider family, even from friends here and there I didn’t even know cared so much (second or third cousins when talking in terms of family). Everyone from my little brother to my college roommate to my international clan of girlfriends in Vail was there for me. And they still are. And knowing that, being able to lean on all that un-loneliness, has kept me anchored enough to avoid floating away. I had a thought the other day that somehow the knowledge that there are so many people who love me takes my focus off, and almost makes up for, the one person who doesn’t.


What about you? Who is your family? How and when have they kept you anchored?

Growing up in Neverland

by Tracey Flower

Peter Pan: “Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all. Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown up things again.” 
Wendy: “Never is an awfully long time.”

Anyone who has lived in Vail for even one ski season will agree that this place is Neverland. Time and age seem to not exist here in this happy valley in the middle of the Rockies. People are youthful despite the fact that many suddenly wake up one day and realize five or even ten years have gone by since they moved here for one ski season. One friend of mine attributes the youthful appearance of valley residents to both the high altitude and the fact that folks around here enjoy a drink or two; “they pickle themselves with alcohol,” he says. Whatever it is youth does seem to flow like a fountain here and it’s easy to feel like we’re living in a bubble where we’re impervious to the stresses of the real world.

The other night I met a small group of friends for drinks to celebrate the marriage of two dear friends. The sun was setting over distant peaks and as we chatted and laughed over appetizers and big glasses of wine I realized something shocking; we’re all growing up.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, a look back at my life and the lives of my friends in the past couple years hints that real world adult stuff has been seeping through the protective shield of our bubble for awhile now; there was a devastating house fire, the death of a sibling, and some gut-wrenching break-ups. I had no idea the bubble was so weak (it must be the altitude).

The realization that we’re all growing up has stuck with, or rather haunted, me all week. And, to be honest, it’s made me feel a bit sorry for myself. Everyone is moving on. People are getting married, moving away, moving up in careers, and more and more just doing their own thing. And here I am, stuck. Back where I was a year ago, penniless and heartbroken.

My job at Starbucks has agitated this feeling. I’m back working at the same place I worked when I moved here five years ago. And, regardless of the fact that the events that have put me in this place at this time were out of my control, it seems like every part of my life has gone backwards at the moment and it’s depressing and humiliating.

I was walking home from work yesterday in the mid-July heat, sweaty, sticky and smelling of coffee, battling with all these thoughts and more when a strange quiet voice spoke up in the midst of them all. The voice encouraged me to compare my life now to my life last time I worked at that very same Starbucks (and I try not to make a habit of listening to all the voices in my head but this one seemed friendly so I obliged). And it occurred to me that despite of the events of the past couple months, I’m more content with my life and myself now than I was then. So, as it turns out, I too am growing up in Neverland.


Want to read about my life during that first summer five years ago? Check out Jump, Lions and Tigers and Bears, and Life With Boys.

Two Months

by Tracey Flower

“When grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.”  ~Samuel Johnson

I realized yesterday that I have been home for exactly one month. I also realized that it has been two months since everything fell apart. Two months. Every second of those months felt like an eternity but now when I stand looking back at them I’m shocked that it has already been two months.

Hello again Vail. The Gore Range from my balcony.

A friend of mine said to me the other day that she’s glad I’m back and it feels like I never left. I feel the opposite. To my friends I was only gone for a little over a month, which I understand is an insignificant amount of time when life is carrying on as it has been with few glitches or bumps; at the end of which they were all pretty much the same as they were at the start. For me, on the other hand, that month changed everything and my first thought in response to my friend’s comment was along the lines of I feel like I’ve been gone for a lifetime because every day I feel the weight of the events of that month and every day they affect me.

Two months, two seconds even, can change everything and, as I pick myself up off the floor and start moving forward again I take comfort in that fact because I have a glimmer of hope that sometimes the change that comes is good. My life is still turned upside down and still changing but I have lived through the last two months and I will live through the next two.

And just as I will keep living I will keep writing. Flower Blog will continue to grow and change the more I live and learn and I hope you will continue to read as that happens. Please feel free to share your comments and suggestions to me along the way.

Like this post? You might also enjoy One Sunset at a Time.

And Home Again (From Flower Blog Two: Stories From Down Under)

My time in Melbourne has come to an end. I was there just over two weeks but it felt like months. I was going to live and work in Australia initially because someone I loved asked me to go there and because I wanted to be with him. Now that I no longer have that person in my life I know that living and working in Australia is not something I want to do. I also know that I had to go to Australia despite my loss, if only for a short time, so that my loss could become real to me. It was like going to the funeral of the relationship that has just died. I had to go to say good-bye.

Farewell Melbourne. The city from St. Kilda Pier.

When I left Michigan for Melbourne I was in shock. I had been dumped and rejected quite coldly and it was devastating. Everything I had believed to be true was false and everything I had been looking forward to for the past few months was gone. This was, and still is, a lot to take and it makes me feel light and dizzy and wonder if I’m dreaming. And so, I believe my mind went into shock to keep me moving forward, to protect me from pain that might have been too intense to handle right away.

The shock wore off quickly when I got to Melbourne. What I have lost became real to me there and grief set in. I sat in the bedroom I was renting while Melbourne’s winter gloom loomed outside and let my grief make itself known. And I cried. I sobbed and sobbed and I let the grief become part of me. I wandered and explored the city by myself and let all the aspects of my grief appear, the heartache, the loneliness, and the anger. I made the decision to return home almost immediately but I let it twist and turn in my mind for a while to give it time to separate from the grief (because let’s be honest, grief itself doesn’t always make the best decisions). I went to Australia with a sick feeling in my gut and while I have returned with my grief in tow, that sick feeling is gone and I at least feel calm and content that my purpose for being there was fulfilled and home is where I should be right now.

I keep thinking about the insect exhibit in the Melbourne Museum. There is an area dedicated to all the large, ugly, and slightly terrifying spiders that call Australia home. Next to the live tarantulas is a display of one of the largest of these beasts’ old skins. It seems tarantulas have the same habit of shedding their exoskeleton as they grow as snakes. It made me wonder if these creatures are aware of this shedding as it is taking place, if they know how hideous they look when it’s happening and if it hurts at all. I wonder if they know that they are growing and that when they finally lose that old skin they will be changed, they will be larger and stronger.

I feel like a tarantula right now. I have returned home in poor shape. I’ve lost weight and sleep and I have a bad cold. Every time I look in the mirror at the moment I’m shocked to see the person looking back at me. I don’t recognize her, she looks drained, this person, she looks pale and weary and it’s hard to believe this person is me. I look back at photos of myself taken in Moab just weeks ago when I started this blog and I also have a hard time believing the person in those photos is me. I don't feel like her anymore and the truth is I will never be her again. I’m in transition right now and I’m growing, which isn’t always a particularly pretty process and is usually quite painful, but when it’s finished the shell of who I used to be will remain and I will crawl out of it still me but changed and, hopefully, stronger.



This will be my last post on this blog. My time in Australia is done and it’s time to move on to new adventures. I have plenty more stories to tell and thoughts to share, though, so stay tuned.

NOTE: To read about what I learned last time I visited Australia read Breathe.