There was a time when I didn't know the Italian names for different types of meat so I never went to the butchers where I'd have to actually say something in order to get an order. Instead I'd go to the supermarket where I could stare at all the names and try to identify them by the appearance of the meat. I like to do things the hard way, I know.
Now, in addition to asking for whatever meat I need, I occasionally request any left over bones they have lying around to prepare for Tala to gnaw on. One young man asked me about Tala's size and when I said medium, he came back out with a giant bone that was bigger than Tala herself and with a grin asked if it would do.
Oh, you bet. And I think that is personal service, with a smile.