THE KING LIVES

On a shopping trip a few years ago, I met The King. No, not that King - I was nowhere near Graceland. This King was in his early twenties, and lacking the formality that usually accompanies royalty, he casually introduced himself simply as "The King". He showed no shyness in admitting his concern for the welfare of those visiting his Kingdom, and without complaint explained that he kept a careful watch, five days a week, over his domain that started at the pencil aisle and ended at the packing supplies. A man of integrity, he took his responsibilities seriously and quickly helped me locate all the items on my shopping list before being summoned over the speaker system. As he walked away he said that if I needed further help, to call him. I'd barely gotten out the words, "Ohhh Kiiing," when he was back at my side - it was almost a pleasure spending more money than I'd intended.
After leaving all my cash at the check stand, I called for the manager - who slowly slunk from his office.
"I'm the manager," he choked, as if fearing that if he heard one more complaint he’d be compelled to run his head through the paper shredder. His demeanor left me unsure of his sense of humor so without calling The King, “King”, I simply pointed at the young man and said to the manager, "That guy is a great salesman and I wanted to let you know."
Like magic the manager's attitude changed lickey-split and happily he stated, "I'll make a note of it in his employee file."
I always take the time to tell store managers when their employees are really good and I would have loved to compliment another guy that helped me at the hardware store.
The store had just opened on a Sunday morning, and I'd begun to scour the shelves for a light fixture when a nicely dressed fellow started down the aisle. With an eye toward tidiness, he was straightening the area by realigning all the merchandise.
After some searching I found a floor sample of the item I wanted, but there were none in boxes on the shelves. So as the young man worked his way toward me I called out to him, told him what I was looking for and asked if he'd help me find one. He agreed in a gentlemanly manner.
Together we'd pulled down, and put back, every box on the messy shelves before he said apologetically, "I guess there aren't any more." When he saw my disappointment he added quickly, "But maybe there are some in the back." My frustration mounting, I asked brusquely, "Well, would you mind looking?!" "Oh, okay, sure," he replied with some embarrassment.
Ten minutes later, as I was about to walk out of the store in disgust, the young man reappeared. His tie was askew, the front of his black slacks and white shirt were smudged with dust, but in his hands was a large box. "It's not the same one, but it's close," he said with a smile.
Happily I took the box to the check stand and when the item wouldn’t come up on the cash register I was asked the price. I stated that I didn't know and explained that the man who works in the lighting department, or (from the way he was dressed) perhaps it was the store manager, had gotten the light fixture from the back room. The cashier called for the two men to come to her register. When they appeared, both the manager and the man working in the lighting department were dressed in jeans and brightly colored T-shirts sporting the store's logo.
The young man who'd helped me certainly deserved to have my stamp of approval placed in his employee file - if only he'd been an employee.