Do People Not Say Thank You Anymore?

What’s wrong with showing a little appreciation?

I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but saying “thank you” following even the briefest of exchanges is something I learned at an early age. Someone hands you a tissue, say thank you. A kindly older gentleman holds a door open for you, a thank you should follow.

Maybe it’s my Texas roots, or the memory of my mama asking me, “Did you say thank you?” after the bank teller passed me a lollipop over the counter. You know, back in the day when we actually had to get out of the car (gasp) and go inside the bank to handle our financial transactions.

Has saying “Thank you” become as extinct as live, in-person banking?

I’ve been rolling this around in my mind for several days now, thanks to a situation I witnessed over the weekend while on a trip with some friends. We were in Arizona, just kind of hitting all the hot spots. My husband and I have never been, but our friends are from there and wanted to show us some of their favorite places.

We started with the Grand Canyon, then worked our way to the Red Rocks of Sedona. As I mentioned before, I’m from the flatlands of north central Texas, so I was particularly moved by the majesty of everything nature and time have created there.

Standing on a ledge, looking out over the vastness of the canyon, seeing the sun paint colors and shadows on the rocks and cliffs, left me feeling so insignificant to the big picture…

Next on the tour was the Cathedral of the Holy Rock, built into the side of a mountain, in Sedona. I am not a Catholic, or even a religious person, but sitting inside, watching people light candles and kneeling before the altar to pray touched something in my spirit. My heart was full and open.

As we left the Cathedral to head off on our next adventure, these were our topics of conversation. The four of us spoke of how small we all are in the grand scheme of things, what we believe, how we all felt witnessing the beauty of the desert and mountains…

We continued talking as we boarded the shuttle bus that would take us to the trailhead where we would begin our hike. We were so immersed in our deep philosophical discussion, we hardly noticed our bus being over-run by a gaggle of 20-something, black spandex wearing, giggling, squealing women.

Maybe a bridal party, possibly a sorority trip, I’m not really sure. What I do know is there were about 15 of them, they were loud and filled with questions for our driver. They all spoke in a pack, and I was having a hard time keeping up. I can’t imagine how the elderly man driving the shuttle must have felt!

To his credit, our bus driver patiently responded to each of their many questions with grace. He then politely offered all of his passengers cold bottles of water before closing the doors and taking his seat to begin the quick drive to the trailhead.

Once there, the driver opened the door to the bus. The four of us were seated in the back and watched every last member of the party disembark. They giggled, wiggled, and chatted their way off the bus. A few other passengers went down the stairs, gathering their belongings, then finally my party went down the steps.

I was the first to leave. As I stepped down, I looked to our patient and kind driver and thanked him for the ride with a smile. Next off were my friends, who each smiled, said thank you and wished the driver a nice day. They were followed by my husband, who actually shook the driver’s hand as he thanked him for the ride.

It could have been the altitude, or the beauty surrounding us that had me feeling a little more contemplative than I might normally be, but as we stood there, getting ourselves together for our hike, I came to a realization.

The four of us were the ONLY passengers on that bus that spoke to our driver when we left. I was beyond curious to know if I was the only one of us to have noticed, so I asked,

“Did any of you notice anything getting off the bus?”

My friend, Joe, answered without any hesitation. I should have known it would be him to speak up. He’s one of those quiet types that doesn’t miss much happening around him.

“If you mean that we’re the only ones on this bus that said thank you to the driver, then yes, I noticed.”

Pretty quickly, my husband and Joe’s wife chimed in that they saw it, too. We began our hike questioning what we had seen.

Why were we the only ones to say thank you? Were the other passengers too excited to even notice they were being rude? Were they just too caught up in their own conversations to speak? Maybe they were all just a bunch of rude people?

Or could it be that saying “Thank you” just isn’t as big a deal as it used to be?

I don’t know the answer. It’s been almost a week since it happened and I can’t get it off my mind. It keeps popping back into my head.

I find myself paying more attention when I’m out in restaurants or convenience stores and I am noticing a severe lack of gratitude for the small things. I’m seeing servers refilling drinks or dropping off extra napkins and not one person at the table even smiles at them, let alone says thank you.

When did we get this way? I know it’s not everyone. I want to believe there are still more of us saying thank you than not, but I just don’t know. Working in customer service for most of my life, I’ve seen people’s manners go downhill over time. People being polite to one another is not as common as it used to be.

I believe a lot of it has to do with how much of our daily lives we can conduct from a keyboard. Banking, grocery shopping, ordering shampoo from Amazon, etc… Everything is just a click away, no human interaction required.

Throw in a pandemic with everyone living in quarantine and social distancing, it’s a miracle any of us remember how to be people in the world outside.

Is it just me? Am I seeing things? Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I don’t think so.

I know I’m watching myself more closely now. I want to practice the manners my mama taught me every day. I want to say please and thank you and have a nice day.

I don’t want to come across like I’m shouting from my soap box or screaming from the back of my high horse. I already said I’m not religious so I sure as hell don’t want to sound like I’m preaching. All I’m saying is a little appreciation goes a long way.

I can’t make anyone else do it, but I can show some appreciation for each and every bit of human kindness I encounter in my small corner of the world.

And I damn well intend to, starting now.

If you’re reading this story, thank you for both your time and interest. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Thanks again!