Greetings and Grunts

If you’ve ever worked as a cashier, you probably know the script. “Hi! How are you today?” Most of the time it’s just part of the routine. A polite greeting. A moment of basic human interaction while groceries get scanned and receipts print.

But Richard hated that question. Every single time a cashier asked him how his day was going, he would snap back with something short and cold. “Fine.”“Whatever.”Or sometimes just a grunt. You could actually see the change happen on the cashier’s face. They would start the interaction with that practiced smile, the one people in customer service learn to wear, and the moment Richard responded, their shoulders would drop just a little. Their posture would shrink. The smile would flicker. It was like watching someone quietly deflate.

One day after another awkward checkout, I finally asked him about it. “Why are you like that with them?” I said. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

He shrugged and said something that, in his mind, made perfect sense.

“I’m not sharing my personal life with complete strangers. They don’t actually care how my day is. It’s fake. So why should I pretend and tell them anything?”

In other words… he was being rude simply because he didn’t believe in the small social niceties that keep the world running smoothly. So I challenged him.

It was December, and we were going to stores constantly for Christmas shopping anyway. I told him that every time we went into a store, he had to give five compliments to random strangers. Not fake greetings. Actual compliments. His son immediately started laughing. His daughter laughed too—and then said she doubted he could even do it. Richard is a big guy. Muscular. Built like someone you probably wouldn’t expect to walk up to you and say something nice out of nowhere. His size alone made him look intimidating. But to his credit… he tried. He didn’t hit five compliments.

Not even close. But he did manage two. And the reactions were priceless. People would look up at him with this mixture of surprise and confusion. Their eyes would widen a little, and then they would smile politely back at him… but you could tell they weren’t quite sure what to do with a giant, hulking man suddenly complimenting their shoes or jacket. It was awkward. It was funny.

But it was also proof of something important. Sometimes people aren’t rude because they’re bad people. Sometimes they just don’t realize how much those small moments matter. Those tiny exchanges between strangers—the “How’s your day?” and the “I like your sweater”—are the glue that holds everyday kindness together.

And even if it feels small…

It still matters.

Dude… Don’t Be Rude.