There are many reasons to get a good shoeshine. It prolongs the life of your shoes, can give your professional image a boost, it feels good and will put a spring in your step, and, well, elegant footwear seems to be pretty important to women. I've been shining shoes in New York and San Francisco for 18 years, mostly at A Shine & Co., a business I founded myself. We have permanent chairs in both of those cities and also travel to special events all over the United States. I've shined the shoes of movie stars and millionaires, priests and rabbis, politicians and gangsters. This business has shown me that one's material circumstances do not necessarily make one happy, and that having money doesn't make you a success. No one is above or below me in life, and I'm honored to serve humanity by reflecting my happiness and shine to anyone and everyone that sits in my chair.

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I love shining shoes, so much in fact, that I've hired many of my friends, and I want to continue to open shoeshine stands all over the world. But this joy and growth sometimes comes at an unfortunate cost: clueless, cranky, or otherwise crappy customers. Hey, most of my customers are polite and friendly, not to mention respectful, loyal, and engaging. Occasionally, though, there are some that don't understand the complex subtleties of the business I'm in. Look, when done correctly by a professional, shining shoes is a labor intensive, customer service position that requires skill, artistry, and salesmanship, not to mention diplomacy, tact, and especially humility. A sense of humor and a dash of showmanship also help tremendously. I've employed three UC Berkeley graduates, two lawyers, award winning artists, a paramedic, a championship boxer, a nationally ranked gymnast, a real estate agent, international models, actors, musicians, and comedians. Shoe shining may seem like a simple job, but that doesn't mean the people performing it are simple themselves. For your benefit, I've surveyed my staff and my own experiences to give you this list of things that drive shoe shiners everywhere crazy. So please, if you want to have a pleasant experience next time you get a shoeshine, take these suggestions seriously.

I'm not an economist, but your shiner is performing an artisanal service that cares for and improves the look and life of your shoes, and is spending a good 10 to 20 minutes doing it. So have a heart, guys. A multi-millionaire once complained to me after I'd raised my prices (God forbid a shoeshine costs more than a latte) and I thought to myself, "This guy still thinks it's 1920 and a shine should cost a nickel." Where's the 21st century trickle-down, gentlemen?

Saying to me, "Hey, do a good job and I'll give you a good tip" doesn't get much more condescending, and chances are, it's probably not going to be a "good tip." Or "Is this what you really do for a living?" No, actually I'm a billionaire, and this is just a business I do for charity. Please, don't be the worst guy.

I'm not going to your office telling you how to practice law. It may be shoe shining, but you're paying me, so that makes me a professional, treat me like one.

I can't help it, I find this insulting. Just think, would you say the same thing to your waiter, barber or dry cleaner? Also, please don't tell me about the shoe shiner who only charged you 10 cents, did the best shine ever, was always happy, put four kids through college on his shoeshine money and bought a big house in the suburbs and finally retired into the country club. This fictional character only serves to make you feel better and for me to feel worse.

This is especially a no-no if you have a female shoe shiner. I shouldn't have to say this, really, but suggesting you'd be happier if your shoe shiner was dressed like a stripper is just going to make everyone uncomfortable. Believe it or not, your shiner probably knows how much money she could make as a stripper, and is choosing instead to keep her clothes on and perform a real craft. "Hey, you know what you need here? Why don't you have girls in bikinis shining?" I don't know… maybe it's because I think the service I'm providing is good enough to stand on its own? Maybe I don't like to exploit people, and this job is humbling enough.

We tidy up, condition, and polish shoes, but we don't clean up dog crap.

Welcome to the 21st century, sir, and while you're at it, no, I'm not Oliver Twist. A lot of shoe shiners live only on tips, and this is what your tip means to your shiner—10%: I'm not happy with your shine, but I know I have to tip; 20%: Thanks, we're good; 30%: Wow, you did a great job, I'm happy and I want you to be happy; and 40% or above: You've just made my day, I want to make yours.

If you wore your shoes every single day last winter and they're covered in salt and cracks and holes, don't be surprised when I tell you to dump 'em in the trash can. Some things can't be saved, and it's on you to provide regular care to your shoes.

Just to be safe, you never know whom you're talking to or about to offend.

They are probably shining your shoes.

If you have sore feet, want a special polish, or cherish your white stitching, please tell me first, before I do something we'll both regret.

That way I can hustle from the gate and cut any corners that I can. I hate having my masterpiece cut short because you didn't tell me you only had two minutes for a shine.

Your two-toned shoes will come out monochrome if you do.

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