From the Editor’s Desk: One Story ⭐

Like many people my age, I have stories. Some are well-worn in the sense that I’m particularly fond of them. And some just come up because something happens that reminds me of them. I recently found myself telling a bartender friend one of these stories, a chestnut that I’ve told repeatedly. And this reminded me of an idea I’d had sometime in the past year about how stories like this can be used for good.

First, the story.

My wife sometimes goes to the Boston area for a long weekend by herself to visit family and friends. I so sometimes go on these trips, of course, but I don’t want to  as frequently as she does, and the weekends apart are probably healthy for all kinds of reasons. From a work perspective, this is a good chance for me to try and catch up.

When we’re in Pennsylvania, my wife and I typically have drinks and dinner each Friday night at our favorite restaurant/bar, Notch, which is a short 5-7 minute drive from our condo. We know everyone there, the bartenders and waitstaff and many patrons, so it’s always a good time. When my wife is away on one of those weekend trips, I typically stay in and eat leftovers or maybe some fast food so I can keep getting things done. But I will sometimes go to Notch solo on Friday too.

One of those occasions, I walked into the bar and Maddie, the head bartender and someone we’ve known since we first arrived in Pennsylvania, approach me with one hand held out.

“Give me your keys,” she said.

What? This was confusing. I had just walked in the door, and I stammered something to that effect.

“Give me your keys,” she repeated.

I complained that I hadn’t had anything to drink. I didn’t understand what was happening.

“Keys,” she said.

This was Maddie, so I dug the keys out of my pocket and handed them over. “Why?” I asked.

“You’re not leaving here without your leftovers this time,” she said, laughing.

Ah. I had left my leftovers on the bar on my three previous visits, somehow, only realizing the mistake on the drive home or later. And she had apparently run out into the parking lot with them the previous time but had just missed me. Hilarious.

I’ve told this story about Maddie dozens of times. Sometimes to people who know her—the restaurant and bar world in our area is as small as it is anywhere else, and everyone seems to know everyone—but more often to people who do not. Many of them are bartenders like Maddie, or perhaps servers or in some other restaurant/bar role.

This story resonates with them because it highlights one of the less obvious things that separate those who are great at their jobs from those who are not. Maddie isn’t just a great bartender, almost a scientist, really, in that capacity, she’s a great person. She remembers everything, including people’s names and what they like and don’t. And really cares about what she does. This is a rare combination of skills and it makes Maddie, and people like her, special.

In retelling this story sometime...