BROWSING

The great customer service I'd been shown in the last few days reminded me of an in- store experience last weekend.
I'd had a lovely time at the festival, fell in love with the quaint town I was visiting, and was happy to be spending the night before returning home. I left the picturesque park, drove around a bit, admiring the serenity and neatness, then headed to the hotel. On the way, I saw a strip mall and decided to shop.
I didn't investigate, but some of the stores seemed to be closed. Either that, or the store lighting was unusually dim. I figured it was yet another sleepy town that closes shop early. One store was obviously open, though, and I was glad. For me, a hotel stay means, buy some Lysol or even Clorox, especially if a bath is in my future. I thought I'd pick up some kind of calming bath, bubbly something or other, something to drink, and even a few snacks for the room. I wasn't in a hurry, didn't have a list, and decided I'd just browse the aisles and pick up things as I went. I parked, took my debit and store discount cards from my purse, and entered the store. It was spacious and quiet. It seemed as if I was the only customer, and there was only one person working behind the check-out counter. I may have been in the store 10 minutes when I turned a corner and the woman I'd seen behind the counter came around a corner and almost ran into me. She was startled and flustered. She'd come looking for me. "Here we go", I thought. I'm not sure what she expected me to be doing other than shopping. I certainly hadn't been looking for her, and didn't need help. I was finding what I wanted on my own. Maybe in her estimation, I'd been missing from her view for too long. I don't know why stores stock merchandise in the back if, when customers venture to the back of the store it's a source of intense anxiety...Maybe people didn't generally come into the store and stay very long. Maybe I'd broken some customer browsing record or rule.  I was happily strolling up and down the aisles, arms almost full, and could have stayed in the store indefinitely. I wasn't in a hurry at all, but was on my way to the register soon.
The lady had come to look for me, but hadn't quite worked out what she would say when she found me. So, I waited. What did she want? Was the store about to close? Was there a special she'd neglected to tell me about? Was there a fire drill? Why had she left the front of the store and boldly sought me out? Did she think I'd passed out? Did she think I was hatching some diabolical plot? What if I WERE an armed criminal? She'd left the relative safety of the front of the store and come to find me. There we were. Just the two of us. If I'd wanted to, or had the mind to harm her, I certainly could have. If she'd wanted to harm me, my only recourse would have been smushing her face with a roll of Bounty, or blinding her with Early Morning Breeze-scented Lysol.
In the time she took to search for me, an actual thief could have made off with plenty of merchandise. I waited to see what she wanted. "Ma'am, we're about to close in 5 minutes" would have been appropriate given her posture, tone, and the look on her face. I guess customers who dash into stores right at closing time can be a bit infuriating to employees who are ready to go home. The store, however, closed at 10PM. It wasn't anywhere near that time.
All she managed to ask was, "Are you finished?" Where was I? In a store or sitting at a restaurant table? I wanted to ask, "Finished what?" but instead, I laughed and replied, "I guess I am. I'd better be. I'm running out of room to carry things." All of a sudden I didn't feel particularly welcome. Yep. I was finished.
Perhaps she didn't feel safe. I don't know. There I was, a stranger in town, dressed in a black maxi dress on one of the hottest days of the year-- and not carrying a purse. I decided my carefree browsing was over. She then followed me to the front of the store and took her place behind the register. The kicker was the look on her face when I produced my discount card and my debit card. Her disposition changed. She was suddenly pleasant. (Sometimes pleasantness comes on the scene a hair too late). I was actually a loyal customer of the chain, a stranger in town, true, but certainly not a shoplifter. Perhaps I would have spent more money had she left me alone. I definitely would have had she asked a kind, "May I help you?" or "Ma'am, are you finding everything, okay?" instead of a hostile, snarky "Are you finished?"
 
A conscientious store employee won't soundly obliterate your browsing flow by assuming you're a thief. They'll eagerly find you a basket or cart. It's happened to me at Giant in Fort Washington, Target in Lanham, Ross in Rivertowne, Rite-Aid in SW DC, and CVS in Oxon Hill. Smiling, understanding and sympathetic employees approach and say, "Here! Let me help you!"  What do you do? You keep shopping. It's good for their bottom line AND your retail needs.

When you're a law abiding citizen, you feel some kind of way when people assume you're a criminal and commence to treat you as if you are one. You don't think you look or behave suspiciously, but perhaps, to some people, you do. You don't think you're dangerous, menacing or destructive, but in the eyes of others, you are--no matter how you present yourself, behave, or communicate. Maybe it's a sign of the times, or maybe it's just the unfortunate fact that stereotypes, prejudice and fear still exist.
I've been followed in stores before. It used to annoy me. Now, I sometimes make a game of it. Store employees soon get tired of following you after you take them on twists and turns up and down the aisles and between the racks in their own places of employment-- and end up on their heels. They soon leave you alone and allow you to shop. There's a balance, however, that some employees have mastered. They know how to offer help, back off, and actually be helpful when asked.  Some, unfortunately, are just nuts. They forget that it's a store, not a museum. The products are for sale, not preservation. Some employees are so busy protecting the merchandise that they abuse and offend the people whose intent is to buy it. I suppose their aim is to not to reveal they're actually monitoring you, but I haven't encountered a store stalker yet who does it very well. They get awfully flustered when you come face to face with them, apologetically backpedal when you actually buy something, and they can't ever effectively explain why they are invading your personal space like a crazed mosquito instead of manning the cash register or door.

Maybe sensitivity training is in order. Maybe people who don't like people shouldn't work in retail. Maybe customer service has to be taught. I guess you don't know who's been robbed at gunpoint or locked in a supply closet and now views and profiles everyone who walks into a store as a potential threat. It won't stop me from browsing or shopping and I won't let one person ruin my opinion of a lovely town. If it happens again, though...Oh, who am I kidding. I'll just keep shopping and, hopefully, dispelling unfounded fears and ignorance one employee at a time.
The whole thing reminded me of my childhood when my Mother would dress up in her Sunday best--suit, gloves, hat, and pumps-- and dress us up, too---to go shopping. One had to look respectable, even affluent, then, but still ran the risk of being discriminated against in a place where they voluntarily came to spend their hard earned money.
Sadly, some things never change. What you don't do is let them wreck your day, or cause you to skip acknowledging when things go exceptionally well...: )