That said, I get that it's tough to be in retail. I don't think anyone really wants those jobs as they're basically one step removed from janitorial services on the totem pole of importance to a given company, so it's no wonder they don't exactly attract the highest level of professionals. Likewise, low-level management positions don't usually get many applicants with MBA's from prestigious universities (or even half-way decent community colleges for that matter). So is it any wonder that when my wife and I went to Wal-Mart last week we encountered several individuals employed there who were, shall we say, less than stellar when it comes to creating a positive shopping experience?
We'd gone out to dinner earlier in the evening and were rounding up some groceries and supplies. Typically we shop at Bi-Lo or Reid's (a local chain with an affiliation to Food Lion), but there are some products that we persist in buying from Wal-Mart simply because of the fact that they're cheaper there. On our list this particular evening were lean ground beef, laundry detergent, and a few other random items. It turned out that their supply of lean ground had been exhausted so we got what was left on our order and headed to the check-outs.
The Wal-Mart in Orangeburg is unlike most Wal-Marts in that there are no self-serve check-outs. I don't know the specific reason for this but I'll hazard a guess by saying that they're probably worried installing them would "improve" the local crime rate. Instead they rely totally on traditional cashiers. One would expect, then, that since Wal-Mart is the primary retail outlet in a small town like Orangeburg that there would be enough cashiers to handle the volume of customers. I also expect to find one-billion dollars in my living room when I wake up tomorrow morning - doesn't mean it's going to happen, now, does it?
We get to the front of the store and there are 4 registers open; two on the grocery side and two on the general merchandise side (none being of the "express" variety). Each register had roughly 12-15 people in line, all with loaded buggies. As we get in line, the cashier shouts in our direction for us to let people coming in know that she's closing down her register and that we'd be her last customers. Why the task of relating bad news fell to us I can only blame on horribly poor timing on our part. The thing about bad news is that it tends to put people into bad moods, and bad moods within groups of people tend to lead to things like the development of angry hordes complete with pitchforks and flaming torches. We didn't incite a riot in doing as we were asked but we definitely added to the general feeling of frustration amongst the townsfolk.
With the store now down to three manned registers, we and the other customers continued stewing over our current situation. It was around this point that we remembered another feature that seems to be unique to this particular Wal-Mart. At every check-out there's a framed picture of a woman named Peggy who is the store's general manager with an attached note which states something along the lines of "If you are not satisfied with your experience at our store, please call and tell us about it." And that's exactly what we did - we whipped out our cell phones and dialed the number on the note. We were both put on hold but my wife did get to speak to a manager by the name of Bernadette.
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| Hello, my name Peggy - how may I offend you today? |
My wife was agitated, obviously, and so was I, however she rather politely asked Bernadette why it was that the store only had 3 functioning check-outs given that there are so many customers to be processed. Bernadette's response was:
"Well I was about to come up front and open another register but I had to stop and answer your phone call..."
My wife is blond with blue eyes, just over five feet tall with a sweet attitude - she's arguably one of the cutest little things you could ever hope to lay eyes on. Be that as it may, after her encounter with Bernadette my wife took on the countenance of a rattlesnake that had just found out it was being audited by the IRS. The transformation was a bit startling but not without merit as I wasn't very pleased about how things had sorted out either. (I never got to speak to Bernadette as she was apparently the only manager on duty and had other matters to attend to.)
We eventually did make it through the check-out. Upon leaving the store, my loving, gentle, flower petal of a wife unleashed a tirade with content typically reserved for late night stand-up comics appearing on paid cable networks. It wasn't intended to be funny but it was so out of character I found it hilarious.
Needless to say, neither of us were particularly happy with our retail experience which is why the next day I decided to make a follow-up call to our local Wal-Mart, hoping again to speak to Peggy. Alas, Peggy was unavailable - this has lead me to believe that Peggy is not so much a "who" but rather a "what", meaning that she isn't a she at all but rather some machination of their corporate structure intended to give disgruntled customers a name and a face that is accessible in times like this. Instead I was directed to another member of their managerial staff named Andrew Wolf, who was actually quite agreeable and helpful in listening to what I had to say about our ordeal. He assured me that the matter would be looked into internally and offered to give us a $20 gift card for our troubles.
Money - distracting people from actual problems since the idea of money came into being...
Andrew had given me his cell phone number so I decided to call him to make sure he'd be around when I went to pick up the gift card. I was on my lunch break when I contacted him and as it turned out he was taking his break at the same time. He instructed me to go to the customer service desk and ask for another manager named Keith who would be able to assist me in his stead. I went to customer service and asked for Keith - wouldn't you know it, Keith is on his lunch break too! Funny thing was, after my initial request for aid several employees asked if I needed assistance as I was standing around the customer service area waiting for one of these phantom managers to materialize. Several of them tried to use their radios in an attempt to contact Keith; apparently the matter warranted something resembling an all-points bulletin being put out on the guy - I appreciated their effort, regardless.
After about 30 minutes of waiting around and almost assuredly making several people feel uncomfortable (I guess a 6'3", 300 lb., 30-something male wearing business attire standing at the front of a Wal-Mart store is out of the ordinary?), Keith showed up, Sub-Way sandwich bag in hand. It took him a few minutes to get his bearings as to what I was inquiring about. He ducked off into what I assume was an accounting office behind the customer service area. On his way there I noticed he stopped to ask one of the employees at the desk where another manager was. The employee replied that the person he was looking for had left and this seemed to make Keith a bit agitated, leading me to believe that Peggy's grip on the reigns at this store isn't as tight as the home office would probably like for it to be. Be that as it may, Keith emerged from the office a few minutes later with a gift card as well as a form for me to sign. I'm guessing here but I take it the form is to circumvent people who might be attempting to fleece Wal-Mart out of their profitability by issuing multiple complaints to getting card after card.
Leaving the store that day with our gift card I couldn't help but think about how silly the whole situation was. We, as modern consumerists, expect to have our immediate needs handled in such a way that any amount of delay is a problem. I blame this here thing called the Internet, personally - damned thing is just too swift at delivering our every desire nowadays (28.8k 4 Life). Patience, it seems, has gone the way of the Dodo. But so too has the concept of customer service and most certainly the idea of a customer "always being right". It seems to me that this level of resentment comes from people working in roles like that of a cashier who just plain hate their jobs and pass on that bitterness to their customers via general douchebaggery. Take a note from someone who's been there - if you dislike your condition that much, don't take it out on people who had nothing to do with you getting stuck there. Change takes effort, not gift cards.
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