The other day I was at the bank making a deposit when I said hello to the customer at the next teller window. His name, for the sake of this column, is Donny and he manages a café in my town.

“Well, hello there, stranger,” Donny said. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How come?”

I hesitated, aware that the tellers were listening. I used to frequent Donny’s café and I hadn’t been there in at least six months.

“Do you really want to know?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“OK,” I said. “Here goes. I actually love the coffee and food there. I stopped coming in because of the drama.”

Already Donny was nodding as if he’d heard this before, so I continued.

“Your employees are very nice people, but there’s always drama,” I said. “I’m sitting in there with a cup of coffee and my journal and I have to try to tune out the stories of who got drunk last night, whose boyfriend stopped talking to them, and how they’re tired because they got no sleep last night. Because the place is small, you can hear their conversations at every table.”

Donny sighed. The tellers looked wide-eyed. I felt a little odd, but hoped upon hope that this information would help Donny with his business. Perhaps I shared because I’ve been reading a lot of Seth Godin lately, which means I’m particularly attuned to common sense in business. This certainly fell into that category and it was a potentially easy fix.

It’s even more instructive if we break it down. There are approximately a dozen places I could choose to have coffee within four blocks of my home. The café Donny manages has very good coffee, quality food and an optimum location with regard to my morning routine. A winner, right? The fact that I even know Donny by name says a lot about his interaction with customers.

But in fact, he was a big part of the drama. On most days, I could tell you whether he got stuck in traffic on his way in, got a parking ticket, or had enough sleep. Kvetching with clientele is acceptable once in a while, but when it’s a constant let’s just say it is not a business-building technique.

I am still not sure if I did the right thing answering Donny’s question with unbridled honesty, but I can tell you it has me thinking a lot about truth and when to go there. This word -- truth -- has been widely debated and defined by the greatest minds in religion, philosophy and psychology. I especially love Jules-Joseph Lefebvre’s interpretation in his painting La Verite (The Truth), which depicts a nude woman holding a light (mirror?) above her head much like the pose of Lady Liberty.

When is it appropriate and/or beneficial to hold up that light?

Had Donny been a client of mine and had I been coaching him without ever having gone into his establishment, would we have ever gotten to that particular truth? Hard to say, but probably not. Sometimes observations in daily interactions can be helpful.

In another scenario, there is much talk in this job market and beyond about how far to go in giving people access to your contacts. It has become a serious dilemma for well-intentioned folks who are inclined to want to help friends, but who want to be judicious about letting friends of friends use their name for professional relationships they forged with great care and nurturing.

There’s so much gray area. Can you in good conscience tell your boss he should hire your cousin’s husband’s sister, who you honestly don’t think is a good fit or haven’t even met? If a random friend of a friend who’s an aspiring author hears you published a book, do you really want to give her your agent’s contact info without knowing a thing about the quality of her writing?

Where’s the line for truth?

I recently suggested to an author friend in the latter scenario that she prepare a form letter for the [many] people who come out of the woodwork to ask her how to get published and want access to her contacts. I further suggested that she include a line about how diligently she researched agents and publishers and pitched and crafted proposals and how that is all part of the process to get to the publishing finish line. Is it hurtful truth to tell someone how crucial it is to pay their dues? Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t think so.

If you think back on some of the most truthful things that have been said to you in your life, what did you do with that information? Reject it? Take it to heart? In most cases it can be put to constructive use. Sometimes truth hurts, but if we’re open, that awareness can lead to a fresh perspective and new beginning.

I sure hope Donny thinks so.

Nancy Colasurdo is a practicing life coach and freelance writer. Her Web site is www.nancola.com. Please direct all questions/comments to FOXGamePlan@gmail.com.