New Rules of Shopping Etiquette: A Day at the Mall
Posted: Monday, October 20, 2008
by Danny Davids
Today my wife and I took several hours and did something we haven't been able to do in awhile: We split. That's right, we got up early on a Saturday morning, got ready, and left to spend a day out at the local shopping mall. We figured we'd spend a few hours browsing through the stores, maybe getting some ideas for Christmas, and afterwards going to our favorite Mexican restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner.
I must confess two things. Confession Number One: I don't like to shop. Oh, don't look so shocked. After all, I AM a guy. That means I head for the store, get what I need, maybe let my head be turned by an extra item or two, pay for my purchases, and leave. (Only exception: Fry's Electronics and on occasion Walmart.) I'm not much into windowshopping, but what the heck, sometimes you have to take one for the team, y'know? Confession Number Two: I haven't been to the mall in a loooooooooong time. I don't care for crowds and I'm hoping I'll have all my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving because otherwise I'll be ordering gift cards on-line for my family and friends. That'll go over well with my wife, I can tell you.
Anyway, we got to the mall and headed inside. The first store was a well-known high-end clothing chain. My wife immediately zeroed in on the infant department. (No, she isn't having another child late in life--thank God. For those of you who don't know, our older daughter is expecting her first child in January, which means we're going to be first-time grandparents.) I trudged along obediently behind as she started looking through the boys' clothing (yes, the kids broke down and decided to find out ahead of time what they were having). While she pointed out every onesie in the store, I found a five-pack of t-shirts.
They had cute patterns on them and evidently decided to go with a themed set of statements on each one: Mommy loves me. Daddy loves me. Grandma loves me. I looked at the last two in the pile, assuming that quite intelligently they'd left the very best for last. Nope. The last two shirts in the pack had patterns but no sayings. I put the t-shirts back on the rack and decided that if this company was going to delegate Grandpa to the level of a non-person, then they were going to get my non-money for their product. I don't give half a rip if statistics show men die sooner than women do, some of us last long enough to watch our progeny follow God's mandate and reproduce, and dang it, I want credit for that! (I pointed out the manufacturer's ghastly oversight to my wife. She insisted we find another package because they might have the omitted saying on another set. Oh, no, I wasn't even falling for that excuse; this wasn't an accident, but a planned strategic attack on elderly males.)
We left the store and entered the mall proper. I must confess the customer base was overall very civil and considerate. Only a few parents let their children ramrod them into making purchases they didn't want to make by screaming bloody murder at the top of their lungs in the middle of the mall (the children were screaming, not the parents). People politely got out of the way when an errant child went racing through a crowd of people, with parents crying out and dragging stroller, packages, and elderly relatives in wheelchairs and oxygen gear behind them. And store personnel were friendly and helpful. For the most part. (Oh, please. You knew this was coming or you wouldn't have read this far!)
We entered a camera store and looked at cases for our digital cameras. We didn't find anything we liked, but the salesperson did let us know that there was a sale on 2G SD memory cards for our cameras. (NOW he has my full and undivided attention!) Three cards, $30. That's not a bad price, $10 each. We were planning on purchasing a few extra cards before an upcoming trip, but decided after a few minutes to wait and see if we could find a similar price closer to home.
Three doors down we entered the local electronics shop and asked about the same item. The sales clerk showed us the store's offering, a 2G HD memory card for $30. My wife asked him if she knew his competition down the hall had three cards for the same price. He looked at her with a blank expression on his face. I don't know if the company teaches their employees this look, or if it just came naturally to the young man (I'm guessing the latter). In any case, we left and went back to the camera store, informing the clerk of his competition's prices and the clerk's total lack of caring. He grinned as he rang us up. Bingo. Another item to check off the cruise to-do list.
After exiting the store we descended to the lower level of the mall and slowly headed back towards the other end. I say "slowly" because our journey was impeded by multiple incidents of mall spam. You may be asking yourself, "Mall spam? What the heck is mall spam?" It's my wife's endearing term to describe the operators of the little kiosks that fill the center of the mall aisles, those who interject themselves into your path without permission and attempt to detour you from your intended destination with the intent of getting you to purchase overpriced items that you neither need nor want. I can't tell you how many times we heard "Oh, I'm not trying to sell you anything." I wanted to reply, "Good. So you're giving me freebies, right? I'll take three of those and a couple of those shiny thingies up on the top that look really expensive!" We dodged vendors hawking (and I use the term literally) perfumes, cell-phone services, beauty products from the Dead Sea (if fish can't survive swimming in it, why on God's green earth would I want to put it on my body?!), massage therapy, and various relaxation devices that wrap around various body parts. Being polite doesn't work with these people. You have to be rude or they'll suck you in with their pretty faces and their enticing speech, and before you know it, you're hypnotized, agreeing that bat dung is indeed a natural rejuvenator and colon cleanser and purchasing several months' worth of product. In any case, we make it through the maze of vendors and got to the other end of the mall without having to call our bank and have them close our accounts before any charges went through.
It was our last stop, however, that irritated my wife. We went into a shoe store to look at a pair of canvas shoes for me to take on our cruise. I found a suitable pair and we went to the front register to pay for our purchase. The cashier was dialing the store phone, and I assumed she was making a business call, perhaps to another store to check on a stock item, or maybe even to her corporate offices to report sales or some other such piece of information. Not at all. She was calling a sibling to discuss the specifics of how to handle their mother's impending birthday party! She never blinked an eye as she took our purchase and rang it up, stopping her personal conversation long enough to inform us of our total. She never even said "Thank you" as she handed us our receipt and bag with merchandise inside.
When did employees handle personal calls in the front of the store, in front of customers, and during a sales transaction? Frankly, maybe the best present she could have gotten her mother was a request for emancipation. I would be mortified if people saw my child acting so unprofessional in public, and somehow assumed that I had taught my son or daughter to act this way. (Maybe that's the problem; some parents don't give a rat's rear end about what their kids say and do, as they're so tied up in their own little self-imposed dramas that nothing else matters.)
In any case, we left the mall with some serious new lessons learned.
We had ample opportunity to discuss these new rules over a meal at our favorite Mexican restaurant, a place where the customer is treated politely, service is delivered with a smile, and the product is served quickly and professionally (and tastes amazing!). I'm going to file these new rules away so that when it comes time to shop for Christmas, I'm already prepared. Now, if I could just find the Web site that tells me how to respond in situations like these...oh, yeah, that's right, I remember now. I just find the corporate offices of each vendor and complain...yeah, that's the way it works...or have those rules changed as well??
Anyway, we got to the mall and headed inside. The first store was a well-known high-end clothing chain. My wife immediately zeroed in on the infant department. (No, she isn't having another child late in life--thank God. For those of you who don't know, our older daughter is expecting her first child in January, which means we're going to be first-time grandparents.) I trudged along obediently behind as she started looking through the boys' clothing (yes, the kids broke down and decided to find out ahead of time what they were having). While she pointed out every onesie in the store, I found a five-pack of t-shirts.
They had cute patterns on them and evidently decided to go with a themed set of statements on each one: Mommy loves me. Daddy loves me. Grandma loves me. I looked at the last two in the pile, assuming that quite intelligently they'd left the very best for last. Nope. The last two shirts in the pack had patterns but no sayings. I put the t-shirts back on the rack and decided that if this company was going to delegate Grandpa to the level of a non-person, then they were going to get my non-money for their product. I don't give half a rip if statistics show men die sooner than women do, some of us last long enough to watch our progeny follow God's mandate and reproduce, and dang it, I want credit for that! (I pointed out the manufacturer's ghastly oversight to my wife. She insisted we find another package because they might have the omitted saying on another set. Oh, no, I wasn't even falling for that excuse; this wasn't an accident, but a planned strategic attack on elderly males.)
We left the store and entered the mall proper. I must confess the customer base was overall very civil and considerate. Only a few parents let their children ramrod them into making purchases they didn't want to make by screaming bloody murder at the top of their lungs in the middle of the mall (the children were screaming, not the parents). People politely got out of the way when an errant child went racing through a crowd of people, with parents crying out and dragging stroller, packages, and elderly relatives in wheelchairs and oxygen gear behind them. And store personnel were friendly and helpful. For the most part. (Oh, please. You knew this was coming or you wouldn't have read this far!)
We entered a camera store and looked at cases for our digital cameras. We didn't find anything we liked, but the salesperson did let us know that there was a sale on 2G SD memory cards for our cameras. (NOW he has my full and undivided attention!) Three cards, $30. That's not a bad price, $10 each. We were planning on purchasing a few extra cards before an upcoming trip, but decided after a few minutes to wait and see if we could find a similar price closer to home.
Three doors down we entered the local electronics shop and asked about the same item. The sales clerk showed us the store's offering, a 2G HD memory card for $30. My wife asked him if she knew his competition down the hall had three cards for the same price. He looked at her with a blank expression on his face. I don't know if the company teaches their employees this look, or if it just came naturally to the young man (I'm guessing the latter). In any case, we left and went back to the camera store, informing the clerk of his competition's prices and the clerk's total lack of caring. He grinned as he rang us up. Bingo. Another item to check off the cruise to-do list.
After exiting the store we descended to the lower level of the mall and slowly headed back towards the other end. I say "slowly" because our journey was impeded by multiple incidents of mall spam. You may be asking yourself, "Mall spam? What the heck is mall spam?" It's my wife's endearing term to describe the operators of the little kiosks that fill the center of the mall aisles, those who interject themselves into your path without permission and attempt to detour you from your intended destination with the intent of getting you to purchase overpriced items that you neither need nor want. I can't tell you how many times we heard "Oh, I'm not trying to sell you anything." I wanted to reply, "Good. So you're giving me freebies, right? I'll take three of those and a couple of those shiny thingies up on the top that look really expensive!" We dodged vendors hawking (and I use the term literally) perfumes, cell-phone services, beauty products from the Dead Sea (if fish can't survive swimming in it, why on God's green earth would I want to put it on my body?!), massage therapy, and various relaxation devices that wrap around various body parts. Being polite doesn't work with these people. You have to be rude or they'll suck you in with their pretty faces and their enticing speech, and before you know it, you're hypnotized, agreeing that bat dung is indeed a natural rejuvenator and colon cleanser and purchasing several months' worth of product. In any case, we make it through the maze of vendors and got to the other end of the mall without having to call our bank and have them close our accounts before any charges went through.
It was our last stop, however, that irritated my wife. We went into a shoe store to look at a pair of canvas shoes for me to take on our cruise. I found a suitable pair and we went to the front register to pay for our purchase. The cashier was dialing the store phone, and I assumed she was making a business call, perhaps to another store to check on a stock item, or maybe even to her corporate offices to report sales or some other such piece of information. Not at all. She was calling a sibling to discuss the specifics of how to handle their mother's impending birthday party! She never blinked an eye as she took our purchase and rang it up, stopping her personal conversation long enough to inform us of our total. She never even said "Thank you" as she handed us our receipt and bag with merchandise inside.
When did employees handle personal calls in the front of the store, in front of customers, and during a sales transaction? Frankly, maybe the best present she could have gotten her mother was a request for emancipation. I would be mortified if people saw my child acting so unprofessional in public, and somehow assumed that I had taught my son or daughter to act this way. (Maybe that's the problem; some parents don't give a rat's rear end about what their kids say and do, as they're so tied up in their own little self-imposed dramas that nothing else matters.)
In any case, we left the mall with some serious new lessons learned.
- Manufacturers can exclude the highest-paid wage earners from their view of family as long as they don't ignore the emotional side of the equation.
- Businesses no longer need to worry about price-matching or comparison shopping, as their employees have neither the intelligence nor the authority to explain the huge discrepancies in prices between vendors.
- Invading a person's private space has transitioned smoothly from the Internet to the real world and is treated with the same amount of indifference by those who control the space (ISPs on the Internet, management in the mall).
- And treating the customer with respect and courtesy is no longer required.
We had ample opportunity to discuss these new rules over a meal at our favorite Mexican restaurant, a place where the customer is treated politely, service is delivered with a smile, and the product is served quickly and professionally (and tastes amazing!). I'm going to file these new rules away so that when it comes time to shop for Christmas, I'm already prepared. Now, if I could just find the Web site that tells me how to respond in situations like these...oh, yeah, that's right, I remember now. I just find the corporate offices of each vendor and complain...yeah, that's the way it works...or have those rules changed as well??
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Top-level comments on this article: (4 total)Hi Danny.Both my husband and I have worked in retail all our lives. We would never behave in the manner you have described. But then we're OLD. And that may not be the only problem.Yeah, you can still complain to corporate and get satisfaction...most of the time; depends a little bit on the company. The problem with that is that so many people have figured out you can get something for nothing that way, that the system is abused and the salespeople know it. Makes for a lot of cynicism.I'm not saying that's a good excuse for impolite service and truthfully, I think a lot of that is just what you said...many of the young people in retail today were not raised to respect others and regard their jobs as significant.So, I've adopted a live and let live kind of attitude with the young salespeople of today (it probably helps that I've been a salesperson). As long as the transaction doesn't take longer than necessary, I get what I needed/wanted, and they are not outright nasty to me, I don't much care. Maybe I am part of the problem. I've always said that bad behavior should never go unpunished...it just encourages more bad behavior. But just what is bad behavior.As for those folks in the kiosks and carts and what not, I'm behind you all the way on that one. Very little children get to insist that their parents pay attention to them: "Mom, Mom, MOM! Look at me!" But I like to choose what I look at and am interested in and don't really like to have it thrust upon me.And maybe I shouldn't get started on price matching. But oh, well, I've probably already put my foot in my mouth. Consider the small chain store versus the big conglomerate. Who do you suppose would be able to by a bigger quantity of Whidjit A at a better discount and therefore offer a better price to the customer? How can the smaller company compete?All the above crud aside, you did bring up some good points that probably could use a little deeper examination by all of us as a society about what we are willing to accept and unwilling to allow. Also, your article was very well written as always.DianneDianne, I have worked retail as well, and when I see what passes for customer service these days I nearly choke. As for the smaller guy competing against the larger one, it's ALWAYS been a matter of offering personal service that the big guys can't--or won't--offer. The bottom line is that we show vendors that we approve, or disapprove, of their products and services by voting with our wallets. And in today's economic climate, my votes are getting increasingly sparse!Hi Danny.I used to live in a small town. It isn't small anymore. We have a mall now and many of the big name stores. Used to be you could shop in the small "mom and pops" and get excellent service. They've mostly been pushed out by the big department stores.I don't like the way things are going probably any better than you do. I just find that creating stress for myself by letting it get me all riled up is counterproductive and not conducive to my good health.I, too, vote with my wallet.Peace,DianneAnd shopping is becoming ever more impersonal; just look at Internet purchasing. And what would you rather have from a salesperson, a pat and rehearsed answer handed down by corporate or an honest reaction? Personally I hate receiving those pat answers and was never all that willing to use them when I was working outside of my own business. I will say that sometimes a genuine, "I'm sorry. I don't know the answer to that question," might be nice.
Very insightful, witty, and informative, as usual. Shopping is a wonder to behold . . . from an extreme distance. Maybe via wife's, son's, daughter's video phone. Here's how it works.Daughter video phone scanning cloths. "Dad, this one's nice and it's not too expensive."Dad, "What's your mom think."Daughter zooms in on moms face. Face contorted in she's-never-going-to-leave-the-house-in-that-sleezy-thing too-damn-expensive-anyway look.Dad, "Nope. Sorry, honey."Daughter, "OK, Dad. I'll picture you the next possibility in a couple of minutes."Dad looks at game on TV screen in pause mode. "Make that ten honey, It's almost half time."Ahhhhhhhhhh, now that's shopping.How to avoid the annoyance known as Daddy Hell: shopping.Keep up the good work, DansterAh, crap. All those years wasted in the mall when I could have been home! Why didn't you share this one sooner, Jeff??!?
hi danny,you have a great writing style; sincere mixed with wit.i don't like walking far distances in the parking lots at christmas time, or bumping into people and their merchandise, or spending tons of money. i've shopped on the internet for the past couple of years, and had no problems, and didn't have to leave my computer.wait until next year when the little baby boy is here!now, that will be a shopping trip!my best regards,sue
Sue, please, don't remind me. I think I'll take Jeff's idea into consideration and shop via camera phone. UNLESS they want to get the kid involved in some computer or other high-tech stuff. THEN I might be persuaded to go out for a few hours...!
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