The Man in the White Gloves

I used to think this man's job was completely pointless.

When I lived in Japan, there was a supermarket at the end of my street with a car park. In it worked a man whose job was to guide drivers out safely. He was always immaculately turned out in a freshly pressed uniform and white gloves.

I noticed how seriously he took his role. He'd gesture carefully to each driver, waving them out with a baton and then give a deep bow as they pulled away.

Thing was: the car park was small, six cars at most. And the road wasn't busy at all.

I found it amusing, maybe even a bit ridiculous. All that effort and ceremony for something so unnecessary, I thought.

Back then, I viewed the value of work in terms of visibility, productivity, output. Performance that can, and should, be measured.

But that man didn't seem to be performing. He was simply doing his job with care and attention, with a clear purpose, in service of others.

Nowadays, I don't think that's unnecessary.

In fact, I think it might be everything.