A couple of months ago, I was a visitor at the New York headquarters of a big international law firm. When I walked into the firm’s beautiful offices, I was greeted by an impressive woman of years. I handed her my pass, which had my name on it and she smiled and welcomed me by name. She then offered to take my coat and showed me to a comfortable chair in the reception area. She asked if I wanted to visit the rest room. I did and when I returned, she welcomed me back.

I took my seat and picked up something to read. The receptionist came out from behind the large reception desk and walked over to me. Speaking softly, she told me my appointment was running about 15 minutes late and would I like something to drink while I waited? Did I have enough reading material? I felt very relaxed and content sitting and waiting for my appointment. My impression of the law firm? A classy place with, I was sure, classy people. On the way out, I told the receptionist that I thought she was the best I had ever seen.