Courtesy

My friend Cheryl and I were having lunch at one of the Leo's Coney Island restaurants on Friday before going to the movies.  A group of workers came in, with extremely dirty boots caked in mud, which ended up all over the floor.  When they left, a guy came out and started mopping up the area.  A couple of sheriff's deputies came in and started to sit down, but when they saw the guy mopping, they stepped out of the way and let him continue cleaning the floor.  I liked that.  
Once, when I was working at Gus Harrison Correctional Facility, I went back into the Deputy Warden's suite where the bathrooms were located.  I looked in, but the prisoner porter was in there cleaning.  So I sauntered over to one of the offices in the area.  One of the unit managers was in there doing some paper work.  He invited me in to sit down and asked if I needed anything.  I said no, I came in to use the bathroom, but I didn't want to interrupt the porter while he was cleaning.  The manager was very surprised that I would show this kind of consideration to a prisoner porter.  I told him that nothing irritated me more at home than being interrupted while cleaning.  I figured the prisoner felt the same way.  This guy worked up in the control center/deputy suite area for a long time.  He cleaned my hearing room.  Occasionally, we would engage in inconsequential chatter.  During the winter, the air got extremely dry.  I had a small space heater in my room, because the heating system failed to warm the room adequately.  I got so dried out, I resorted to draping wet paper towels over the heater to moisturize the air.  I complained about it once when we were talking.  He checked out the heater, then got up and went to his porter cart and came back with a wet sponge, which we proceeded to tie to the heater with a string.  Worked much better than paper towels.
I think the unit manager must have told him what I said about being interrupted.  A little common courtesy goes a long way.