Rita's Reflections: Respect is a two-way street

When I worked at Burger King before Larry and I were married, if a special order was requested it was announced on a loud speaker and then marked on a sandwich wrapper. At lunch rush it could get challenging to keep up with the incoming orders. You had to pay attention and listen. That seems to be a lost art in today's world – paying attention and listening.

One particular gentleman came in about the same time most days and ordered the same thing; a double beef Whopper with cheese, heavy mayo. I started watching for him. Some days he never knew I had his favorite sandwich ready before he even placed his order. For years after I quit BK, I would see that gentleman riding his bicycle around town.

The late Judy Davis was a BK assistant manager the day my hand slipped and I cut my ring and pinky fingers while slicing tomatoes using a hand-operated slicer. Either half awake, half asleep, or just daydreaming of Larry. Before I knew it, there was blood running down my right hand and arm. Someone screamed (maybe me) and help was on the way.

Judy was an awesome, Southern gal. She had spunk and personality and of course knew Jeff too. Judy seemed to know just what to do when she saw the scene of the incident. She quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around my hand and proceeded to yank me out into the dining area to find the manager. I can only imagine what the poor diners thought. I could feel my face flush with embarrassment the same color as the blood dripping from the towel. Eight stitches later I was fine. I'm not sure how the diners fared keeping their lunches down. I was a sight.

Most of the managers I worked with at BK were wonderful. When I cut my hand, it was the manager who took me to the hospital. A couple treated their employees pretty brutal at times. It usually takes a little time to get accustomed to any kind of managerial change to form a good relationship and I normally toe the line when told. When the regular manager was going to be absent a few days, the company sent someone to fill in. The guy had the personality of a rattlesnake. It was obvious right off the bat that working for him for just a few days was not going to be a pleasant experience for anyone.

It was lunch rush on the second day when he began barking orders like a seal because he didn't think we were getting the sandwiches out fast enough. When he set his sights on me to be his example of the day, I was ready. I don't remember exactly what was said but he spoke to me in a way that was unacceptable in front of the customers and my fellow employees. When I stick my neck out and speak out for someone, it is usually because I have walked at least a few steps in their shoes.

Not one to always turn the other cheek, I abruptly walked out of the kitchen. Only after the manager got wind that I was not just cooling off, but that I had no intention of returning, did he realize his mistake. Too little. Too late.

It wasn't long after when I witnessed an employer embarrassing a worker with disparaging remarks much like how I was. I approached the manager and in a quiet voice, I whispered that he may not be aware of the fact he was not only embarrassing the employee, but he was embarrassing himself even more. The way I see things, respect isn't a given and it is always a two-way street on my block.

Rita Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifetime Monroe County resident. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on The Monroe News: Rita Zorn: Respect is a two-way street