Today I went shopping in a department store that took over Hudson’s and Marshall Field’s among others. Let’s protect their anonymity by calling them “m.”
I was there buying Hubby a tie for Christmas. I can say this because Hubby does not read blogs, mine included. In any case, I found a great tie and made my way to the purchasing counter where I asked for a tie box.
“I don’t have any,” the 65 year old sales clerk said, “Go through Juniors.” And she points directly through juniors and out a double-glass door to the parking lot.
I employ my Jim Jones mind control technique at the end of which is the ultimate goal that someone employed by m. will get me a tie box: I stare dumbly at her. She walks away, in the opposite direction of the junior’s department (and the door to the parking lot).
I feel vindicated until she comes back with bags, not boxes. She repeats that she does not have boxes and says I will have to go to Customer Service, which is located through the Junior’s department, as they might have tie boxes.
I note with quizzical amusement the fact that she is wearing a headset. What other purpose could that headset have other than communicating with staff members to deliver customer service?
“Do you know where the back is?” she asks.
“Honey,” I said, slowly and irritably, “How would I know where ‘the back’ is?”
“Well, it’s through Junior’s,” she says.
I give up and begin walking toward kid’s clothes. I catch the eye of another salesperson. “Can you call the back for me and find out if you have tie boxes?” I ask. She dances about the question a bit and finally makes the call. The answer comes back in the affirmative. As my luck would have it, just the kind of employee that m. hires to do things like cart empty tie boxes around appears at that very moment. The customer service rep drops me like a hot potato and asks him to do somethign for her.
I continue through Juniors to Customer Service where I obtain a tie box and a conversation with the store manager. She assures me that at m. they get the tie box for you and do not ask customers to track such items down for themselves.
I am left with the knowledge that I am the type of customer who calls little old lady salewomen “Honey.”
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