I was brought up to be polite. Ps and Qs rather then expecting and demanding. At some stage I was probably too polite. It amuses me to see others, and myself, being unnecessarily polite - a distinctly British trait, I think. "I'm terribly sorry and I hope you don't, mind, please, if I buy this little thing from your shop, thank you, if it's all right with you." Still, it is far preferable to what I see everyday in my local newsagent: "Give me a bus pass!"
In my mid-twenties I had the pleasure of being line-managed by two different people. One was just a few years older, blue-eyed boy, on a trajectory to glory, Harry. The other, Mark, was 'old-school', twenty years older, and with only the far distant prospect of early-retirement to look forward to.
Harry used to smarm round senior management, but he spoke abruptly to our long-in-the-tooth admin guy; directed him, and the trainees like me, to do his photocopying without a please or thank you. He was rude to messengers, the junior library staff, the catering staff. And he was loathed. The number of people who said "I can't believe that that lovely Sue is married to that rude Harry." (Long-in-the-tooth admin guy sent me a Xmas card a couple of years ago gleefully announcing that Harry and Sue had split with just a parenthesis to say 'wasn't it sad for the children?')
Observing Mark in action was entirely different. He was business-like, just short of cold, with senior management. The way he spoke to messengers, admin staff and catering staff was a revelation. Courteous, warm, charming. It was impossible not to warm to him. Ten years ago but I still remember the two weeks I spent on audit with him. Definition of a gentleman.
I resolved to ensure that I was like Mark. It didn't require a change of personality; I already got on well with messengers, catering staff and the library.
Yesterday I was travelling back to London on the half four train. I have the privilege of travelling First Class. Normally, I use the time to work, but half four on a Friday, please...I thought what would my manager do, and I ordered two large gins. I was also on constant refills from the tea pot. The young chap yielding the teapot commented that I was drinking a lot of tea. I explained that it balanced out the gin. I didn't explain that it was an extension of a habit my friend developed when doing Voluntary Service Overseas in Malawi, where black tea is customarily drunk as an accompaniment to wine, and a habit I have spread amongst a myriad of friends.
I had forgotten that this particular train company offers complementary wine. Despite my two large gins, I decided to go for a glass. I certainly didn't refuse the second one! During this time, I said my pleases and thank-yous, smiled graciously at the staff, exchanged a few words of small talk, and used my eyes intelligently to express approval. Many passengers who travel first class find it necessary to demonstrate their innate superiority, their master/mistress-of-the-universe status by being brusque, direct, sometimes rude, to the train staff. I don't feel that need. I am confident enough about myself that I don't feel the need to show-off to those around me.
Leaving Leicester, the young man on wine duty passed me a couple of small bottles of wine with a nod and a wink 'don't tell anybody'.
I never use charm and good manners in a cynical way to get preferential treatment. I do know, having worked as bar staff, how awful it is to be treated as a serf, or to be treated coldly, or to be patronised because of the lowly nature of one's job. I know that establishing a warm relationship with the catering staff at the start of the journey improves my journey, and, hopefully, makes their shift more pleasant. If I also get material benefit - like sneaky gratis wine, all the better.
Admittedly, it did make my progress down the platform at St Pancras rather diagonal - a disconcerting experience when you get precariously close to the edge.
And it did make up for Thursday evening. I decided to eat in my hotel room, and with my dinner ordered a bottle of wine. I was most disappointed that the 'bottle' turned out to be 18.75 cl. I didn't bother arguing, but that's only a glass and a half. I was in the mood to drink an entire bottle.
