I was out shopping with RJ. We were trying to decide if we should invest in another bed frame for one of our guest rooms. The one currently in there is an gorgeous antique that is actually slowly wearing out its usefulness. Sad to say, it just doesn’t have the stability that I would like.
It was getting late and I was tired, but we decided to stop anyway at a local furniture store. RJ parked the car and we went inside. Because we had been out and about most of the day running errands, we were dressed in blue jeans with a sweatshirts and sneakers. My New Zealand wrap finished off my “ensemble.” I was prepared to buy the headboard and frame, throw it into our truck and rectify the unstable bed the next day. I opened the door and an elderly gentleman approached me and asked if he could help. I told him what I was looking for – a metal full bed. He started to walk toward the back of the store (I think he may have taken 2 or 3 steps) and proceeded to point to the far wall and say, “See that sign back there? You’ll find the frames there.”
I could barely get out an “OK” when he smartly turned and walked away. “What just happened there?” I asked RJ.
“I guess the sale wasn’t big enough,” was his reply.
We wandered back to the beds and mattresses. We have been known in the past to start looking for one thing and hitting on something that would be perfect in another room. It took a few minutes, but we finally found the sign and the frames that the salesman had eluded to. There were a few on display.
“Do you want to see what else is around?” I asked
“Sure.”
Still no salesmen insight and I’m starting to have questions about the furniture I see. I looked around to no avail. “Wait here,” I instructed. “I’m going to find salesman,” I said as I headed for the customer service counter. I felt a bit annoyed since there was only one other couple in the store who was being helped and us. As I approached the counter, the young lady there is having a lively conversation is a stock boy. She smiled and he talked about what he was happening in the back room.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Is there someone who would like to talk to me about buying a bed?”
She immediately stopped her conversation and said, “Yes, of course someone would like to talk to you” and picked up the intercom, which broadcasted to the entire empty store in decibels harmful to the human ear, ” Sales personnel needed in bedding.”
“Thank you,” I said as I tried to get the ringing out of my ears.
“She paged someone,” I announced. RJ looked at me with the look that said, “I heard.”
I continued to look at the metal frames. “Can you see how much?” RJ reached for the tags.
“I think this one only comes in queen or king.”
“How about this one?”
“It doesn’t say.”
My frustration is starting to mount. It’s been almost 15 minutes and still no salesman.
“That’s it! I’m done,” I said as I start for the door. As I walked through the empty store, I saw 3, count them, 3 salesmen sitting in the front of the store. Two were having a vocal conversation and my salesman was sitting behind a desk reading a book!
“I’ll just spend my money elsewhere,” I said with RJ right behind me. I couldn’t believe how ignored I was.
The next day, I called the manager and explained the story. I said, “Business must be very good for you if all you customers are not important enough to be helped.” I told him of my frustration and of the salesmen sitting around at the front door. I said, “If I ran my business like that, I would be out of business.”
Of course, he agreed and was very apologetic. He said, “Of course, that should not have happened” and “Yes, there should have been someone there to answer my questions.” He said he would give me a discount if I came back into the store and that I should ask for the manager. He asked when I could come in. I told him probably not until Sunday, since I had guests.
Sunday came and went. I could not bring myself to go back to the store and deal with the manager or any of the sales people. But within a few days, I was back to looking for a new bed frame and had an opportunity to shop around. I found myself parking my car in the same local store’s parking lot. I could just buy it and put it in my truck. With a discount, it could be affordable. I was dressed up since I had been to church earlier and never bothered to change. As I walked through the doors, I was immediately approached by a younger gentleman, who asked how he could help. He asked all the right questions, took me back to where the full frames were on display and even though he was unable to meet my needs, he gave me the price and a business card. The frame was not all I thought is would be, so I thanked him for his help, took his business card, prepared to leave. He offered me a bottle of water to take with me and walked me to the door.
Hmmmm…Okay. This got me thinking. What was the difference between the first visit and the second. Besides the fact I had two different sales people, the difference was my attire. I’ve shared this story. Others have had similar experiences. Lesson learned: You never know who you are talking to – no matter how they are dressed.