By Deborah Salomon
Staff Writer
No, the jolly gent sporting red shoes isn’t an elf who missed the last sleigh back to North Pole. Neither is he declaring allegiance to a sports team, say the Kansas City Chiefs or N.C. State Wolfpack. Target employees, including 69-year-old retiree Mike Askwith, wear red shirts. So far nobody has gone the shoe
route, which identifies Askwith as the super-friendly employee who helps customers navigate the self-checkout.
Nice guy. But that’s not the kicker. After his shift Askwith goes home to a Pinehurst gated golf community. In his closet hang finely tailored suits, white shirts, fashionable ties and sedate
footwear, the uniform of a corporate executive who traveled 46 countries for Exxon Mobil, then developed and sold a convenience store chain.
He admits to having been well-compensated. Then why deal with computer-boggled shoppers and fussy kids by day, deliver DoorDash some evenings?
“I get more gratification here than in 35 years in corporate America,” he answers.
Askwith is blessed with a positive attitude, a ready smile, amazing energy. “I’m a workaholic. I love people,” he grins. “Ninety percent of people have issues and everybody has a story, happy or sad. I like to mentor, make a difference.”
Most uber-positive personalities have a familial background, either positive or negative: “I come from a broken home. I had to learn about myself,” he offers. “I’m not the best-looking guy; I’ve had issues including self-esteem, when people helped me,” especially his wife Cathy, whom he describes as vibrant and outgoing.
“Cathy is my sounding board. In difficult situations I always think how she would react.”
Otherwise, he admits to overcompensating for things he finds difficult.
Whatever the issues, they left no discernible mark. His co-workers sing the same song:
‘’Mike is always on time, with a smile. He’s fantastic with the little ones – they love the red shoes,” says Jo Kenzel, who works in the Target office. “If anyone needs help Mike jumps right in. He’s a huge asset.”
Store manager Chase Axton recalls his surprise when reviewing Askwith’s resume. But in board room or break room, “Mike’s a model of what customer service is all about.”
Askwith, son of a nuclear physicist father, banker mom, stepfather in the fuel industry, grew up in Fairfax, Virginia, married his college sweetheart, moved around as he ascended the corporate ladder. Some years he was away from Cathy and their three children for 200 days. The couple chose Pinehurst
for retirement not for golf, but to be near grandchildren. For Mike retirement did not mean unemployment.
“He’s a man who likes a list,” Cathy says.
It was she who saw the Target want ad. They were both enthusiastic Target shoppers. Mike trained at the Fayetteville store for six weeks, then worked there before Southern Pines opened. His tech skills were suited to the self-checkout area which occasionally brings Target “guests” to tears.
He approaches, makes eye contact, greets regulars by name, flashes that smile. “I help them scan, use coupons, whatever they need.” Sometimes it’s lifting a 25-pound bag of pet food. Mostly just unfamiliar technology. “I have never had an experience get out of hand.”
The red shoes sometimes break the ice.
About those shoes….
Mike is familiar with red footwear signifying Satan in literature and musical comedy.
“Forty years ago I had some red shoes like Bozo the Clown. My son destroyed them on a trip down the Amazon River, which didn’t make me very happy. Then two years ago he surprised me on my birthday with red Air Force Nikes.” Mike was so thrilled he keeps a back-up pair, in case one gets wet.
But even a well-heeled people person admits annoyances. No surprise, his include lack of discipline and people who don’t “come through.’’
Mike doesn’t follow sports, although talking a good game landed the volunteer a coveted assignment in the NBC Sports tent at the U.S. Open. He enjoys time with his dogs and is writing a book with his son on how people of different generations react to happenings.
No surprise, then, that Mike Askwith faces 70 smiling, calm, in good health, with a spring in his red-shoe clad step:
“I’m not going anywhere,” he states. “I’m here till I die.”
Contact Deb Salomon at debsalomon@nc.rr.com
