Unexplored Territory

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Coddled Customers, or Why I Would Never Make a Good Personal Shopper

In continuation of the saga known as Homicide: The Aviary Files, I entered the little specialty store where the Mominator works part time. The kids love it there because since they were little *wee little, ok .. I know they are still little* they were allowed free rein to run around, touch things, put on the sampler hand cremes, and hit the windchimes. Hence you can well imagine how much I LOVE to take all THREE of them there.

Mominator was working, and she was tending to a customer. This was a lady around my Mom's age, who needed to have her freaking HAND HELD during the entire transaction. I can't STAND that. And she works in a store that attracts "these" people. They carry Waverly that can be special ordered, and Vera Bradley purses. Not that this is Prada or anything, but for this two-horse town, it is higher end.

"These" people ... the ones who pull up in their Caddies and have those huge ass sunglasses, and there isn't a hair out of place on their heads because they just got in from the styling salon.

"These" people who come in and ask the salespeople 20,000 questions about some Christopher Radko ornament, and then turn around and tell them that it is too expensive.

"These" people who can't understand that there ARE other customers in the store who ALSO need some attention. Nothing huge ... but would like to check out without having to ask "these" people to give up the stronghold they have established at the cash register, when they are no where near the checking out phase.

I can't STAND "these" people. I can't stand regular customers, either. I know... I am a customer. But there are people in these retail establishments who are much more fit to be in the sales positions than myself.

If I were the one in Mominator's shoes, I would probably tell each and every one of them to piss off and to cop a clue that they are really no better than anyone else in that store, that their shit DOES stink, and that their gas-guzzling vehicle is the reason there are high prices at the pumps.

I just cannot STAND this mindset of the coddled customer. What happened to the megamart mentaility ... the move or be squished by my cart and my 10 kids following behind me ... the "I saw it first so get your freaking hands off that last bottle of ketchup marked at 1 penny" attitude ... the one stop shop where you have to stand in line for 10 minutes, waiting behind the person who SAW you dragging your three kids to the checkout kicking and screaming with your basketfull of groceries, ready to get out of there at a moments notice... the person who had 5 items, all of which did not have a price code.

Now see.... THOSE are the shopping experiences we should ALL have to endure. The survival of the fittest competitions. Because there, employees can act like asses, customers can act like bigger asses, and their kids can pretty much do anything short of pulling the fire alarm. Speaking of .... nah. I won't go there.

While I think there is more of the megamart mentality out there, I would take that any day over that bullpuckey of having to hold someone's hand all the way through a transaction because service positions are SOOOOO not me. I'm in it for myself.

So I guess that is why I continue to shop at The Trust Fund AKA: Wal Mart and other places. Because give me a cart, a sales flyer, and my list, and I will eat those coddled customers for breakfast!

1 Comments:

Suburban Turmoil said...: Ha ha! Very funny! I love that phrase "Megamart mentality."; 9:14 AM

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I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.