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I always believe that pizzas are gifts from heaven so when it was announced that it will fill our stomach for merienda, I was happy.
Time passed after the phone call order.
The simple tummy tease became a hunger protest.
The “If it’s late, it’s free” policy rang like a siren.
So when the delivery guy arrived, a colleague firmly stated the policy and bluntly insisted its terms.
The guy simply smiled as he scratches his head. He wiped his sweat and nod in agreement.
Then I suddenly remember a friend’s story that the rider paid for her mom’s pizzas because he was late.
Because of this I found myself no where near excitement.
I was urged to contest my opinion, that we didn’t lose anything, timing was just ok and the possible consequences for the person.
Some even agreed, but it was overruled and ignored.
I know that policy is a policy but for times like this, I think we should weigh wisely and gear to kinder response.
When the rider left, I felt disappointed and mad because if this is true, I was thinking of his family, the tight budget he is carefully managing, the notice from his superior and the days to come for him as a result.
I also felt bad, thinking I didn’t explained enough or expounded the idea beyond the policy border but what else can I do? I did what I can.
For me, these kinds of policies are good marketing strategies that will lure customers, a point of differentiation and an added value. These also push the team to work efficiently and to extend further, but if this will also mean that the expense will be shoved from the stitched pockets, I think we have to tailor things, manage expectations and allocate realistic buffers.
This may be a simple encounter but it tells a lot of stories.
I was also reminded of, one of the reasons why I struggle to be great.
Why I have to do things and why I sacrificed rest days.
It is because I want to reach my peak, amplify the voice of our everyday heros and have more capacity to uplift.
..this is my box of pizza.