I finally finished a four-week road trip around the country this past week, driving nearly 8,000 miles. It was great, and I learned a lot of things I didn’t know before, such as:

• When you order espresso outside of the Seattle area, you have to speak your order very slowly and in the correct order. Like this:  Iiiiced grraannde caaaraaamelllll maaachiatto, noooo whip creeeeeam. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a small Pepsi.

• Kids’ bladders are activated for release exactly 100 yards past the rest stop, which is almost always the last one for the next 50 miles.

• Everything really is bigger in Texas, except for the motel pillows. Sure, I have a fat head, but I could fit six of them side-by-side across the bed. I’ve seen wedding rings delivered on bigger pillows. Come on, Texas! Don’t let us down.

• “Keep right except to pass” is the written rule of the highway, but the unwritten one is “Keep in the left lane until you approach a car going the same speed as you, then match their speed for as long as possible, blocking both lanes.” I swear I went through three states behind a couple of cars like this. If the Olympics had a synchronized driving team, these guys would have brought home the gold medal.

• I’m moving my entire stock portfolio to motels, since they are nearly full almost every night. Especially the Hampton Inn chain; forget about getting a room there.

The difference in quality between motels was striking. It doesn’t seem to hard to start a motel business; you need a few rooms, and each one needs at least a bathroom, a bed, a lamp and probably a TV. Clean towels and sheets are good, and a nice sign so people can find you would be good, too.

So what separates the Hampton Inn from the other motels? They don’t have any more amenities than their competitors, but they get all of the little things right.

The sheets, towels, and blankets seem just a little bit newer. The lighting is just a little bit brighter. They put in extra outlets to charge all of today’s essential electronics. When the eggs are running low at the breakfast buffet, someone refills them quickly. Light switches are where you expect them to be.

We stayed one night at a four-star hotel just to try it once, and it was fairly disappointing. They charged a premium price, but they didn’t get any of the little things right. Breakfast buffet lines were about 20 minutes long. Once you did get food, there weren’t enough tables for everyone. Only one bellhop cart was available for a hotel that held hundreds of guests. Room service trays with half-eaten food and dirty plungers were left in the hallways for over 12 hours.

The reward for companies that pay attention to the little things is lots of repeat business, a great reputation leading to more new customers, and in the case of Hampton Inn, complete sellouts every night.

Just being a national company isn’t enough, though. Starbucks has a manual for how everything should be done, and they take their training seriously. But the quality varies widely between locations; I know, because I’ve stopped at over 50 different Starbucks during this trip, and my wife has had to show a few people how to make the drinks properly.

We can probably blame bad training for some of these, but bad training simply means that either the trainer is misinformed, or simply doesn’t care about the little things.

So how can companies train people to care about the little things? First, they have to care about them; the mood at the top is revealed by the people at the bottom. If the boss doesn’t care, no one else will either.

Second, they have to find people who care. That’s not too hard to do; most people care about doing a good job. Even a mediocre interview should reveal whether people take pride in their work.

Third, they have to treat those employees well. There are plenty of books and theories on motivating employees, but most of them seem to miss why people take pride in their work. It’s not mostly about the money, but has more to do with having a sense of control over their work. Sorry micro-managers; your methods don’t work here.

In an effort to increase my own attention to the little things, I’m going to have to cut down the amount of projects in my life. Unfortunately, that means that writing this column is one of the casualties.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this space, and to the folks who took time to send me an email. I hope our paths cross again someday.

Ryan Ryals lives in Maple Valley and writes a weekly column about politics and life in the city.

Reach him at ryanryals@ymail.com.