And I knew when he didn’t meet my eye that he was not going to write down anything, not going to take care of it. Knew when he said, “No problem, sir,” like the thing he wasn’t even going to bother to do was a favor to me instead of his job. Knew from his fucking haircut.
— Jeffrey Zeldman on hotel wakeup calls in “Foreknowledge Of Things Trivial — Or, The Lamentable Desk Clerk”. Artfully told, and certainly struck a nerve.
