Why I Can’t Ignore the Wobbly Chair or Table at Every Restaurant and Coffee Shop

You know, it’s interesting how many different little things can add up to your total experience. Like, you have the perfect ambiance and the perfect coffee. Or perfect vibes going on in person. But that one little thing can be askew, like a painting on a wall. Suddenly you are jarringly so unfocused. Just fixated on that little detail.

In my case, it tends to be a wobbly table. Or a chair. I have to instantly swap it out. And it’s not me trying to be pristine. It’s having a direct effect on how I’m feeling. In that moment. A little disruption. It’s not even just that day or that moment, but it’s how that paper cut interrupts randomly during the moment. Like your GPS blaring out directions in the middle of a conversation (that’s why I keep the GPS voice off).

Of course, having grace and tolerance is important because who’s checking every single table? Then again, who is checking every single table? Where are those invisible heroes?

One of my favorite writers, Robert Pirsig, in the Zen and Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, spoke about and essence of quality: You know what it is, but you can’t really define it. You can only perceive it and taste it. I find quality in the little details.

The other day, I was at someone’s home, they had smoke detectors that were all beeping every five to six minutes, begging for their nine-volt battery. And for me, it was utterly distracting. But the homeowner, they just tuned it out of their lives. Why? (also, how?). To me personally, it makes such a big difference.

But I get it. Sometimes when you’re just trying to run a business, just trying to get on with your day, it’s just easier to ignore the little details.

Perhaps we can take thirty minutes in our schedules, blocking out the time in our week to deal with these paper cuts. To do a detailed assessment and refinement of what’s in front of us.

Yes, I know it’s the smallest deed. But it pays off in biggest ways, in the invisible ways, in the ways that we all don’t know, or can tell, but absolutely will feel. At least I will.

Excuse me while I wad up this napkin to stop the wobble under my table.