Merchants of
Shame
Jan-Jun
2003 Archive
At the time, I was working as a student
programmer at a large telecommunications company, whose company dress code
was casual. Even so, this being my first job, I still tried to dress
fairly nicely. The day this took place I was wearing a nice pair of slacks
(beige color, not jeans) and a nice blue sweater. My sister's birthday was
the next day, so I went to the shopping mall near my work on my lunch hour
in order to buy her a present. I knew she liked clothes from a popular
clothing chain, so I decided to look there. After being ignored by the
sales staff (I guess I didn't look trendy enough to be shopping there), I
found a nice tank top that I knew my sister would appreciate.
At the cash register, I place the tank
top on the counter for the sales clerk to ring through. He glances up from
his magazine and comes over. Completely nonplussed, he looks at me. Then
he looks down at the shirt. Then he looks back at me. He sighs morosely,
and then he says, "I'll get you a gift box." Not a question; a
statement of fact since I could not possibly be the sort of person to
frequent this sort of establishment (even though I had bought clothes
there frequently).
Now I know that it was a gift, but
still, just the way he said, "I'll get you a gift box" got me
completely. I actually opened my mouth because I was shocked. I should
have left. Stupid me, I bought the shirt (my sister loved it) and haven't
been back since. 0822-03
Sadly this etiquette story features as
myself as the main offender, but will to share it anyway. I sell imaging
systems to hospitals, and this occurred at a customer site. I sold two
systems to a hospital, a 12-month+ sales cycle heavily based on trust,
professional and corporate credibility. We were asked by one of the
cardiologists for some additional training a few months after they had
been using the systems. In those cases, we usually go back to the site
between 4 and 6pm after the work of the day is finished and there is
little distraction. On the day in question, our clinical specialist and I
arrived, and our specialist, the doctor and the hospital technologist (one
of a staff of four females) quickly retreated to a computer room across
the hall to work on the remote workstation. I went to the empty main
imaging rooms to use the phone. I called in to our corporate office and
reached a manger to discuss upcoming deliveries and installations.
A few minutes into the call, the call
waiting beeped and I indicated to the manager that I would click over and
take a message for the department. When I clicked over, it was still the
manager from our company who laughed at me for not knowing how to answer
their call waiting. We resumed our discussion, and the call waiting beeped
in again. The same situation repeated, with me clicking over only to find
the same manager on the other side. He got a kick out of this again, and
we resumed our call. The third time call waiting beeped, I again tried to
answer, and a male voice on the other end asked to speak to one of the
technologists. I thought the voice sounded like the manager I was speaking
to and knew he was trying to have some fun with me, so I calmly stated
that the only technologist in the department could not come to the phone
as she was under the desk in front of me giving me h%*#.
Expecting hear the manager laugh as I
caught him trying to play me, I was horrified at the stony silence which
was followed with a very icy "Just exactly who am I speaking
to?" I froze for a few seconds then quickly hung up. As I paced
around the department nervously, the phone rang again. I ran across the
hall and grabbed the technologist from the room (she and I had a great
relationship) and asked her to answer the phone, quickly indicating that I
had done something very stupid. She finished the call, and turned to me
and said, "What in the world did you just say to him?" It was
one of the hospital’s cardiologists. The doctor told her what happened
but would not repeat the details of my indiscretion. I explained the whole
story to her, and she was very surprised to say the least. She then
indicated that it was the partner of the other physician who wanted to
know if we had arrived so he could come down for some training. He was
coming to our location! It was a very nervous few minutes, but when I
heard him come in, I asked him into the hallway, sheepishly explained what
I had done and asked for his understanding and forgiveness. He accepted my
apology with a great deal of reserve and walked away to join the others.
The day finished without incident, and some time later he actually
attended a dinner I hosted for them where it appeared all was forgiven.
They remained a good customer, ultimately buying from our company again. I
have since installed a filter between my brain and my mouth, though at
times it still malfunctions.
Merchants0823-03
This isn't too bad a story... no harm
was meant, and not much harm was done. But it was funny at the time, and
I'd like to share it.
Dad and my sisters were going together
to buy mom something really nice for her birthday... a brand new set of
outdoor furniture for the deck. Mom spends a lot of time out there, and
the old things we had were going, so it seemed like a great gift. I wasn't
in on it- I'd already bought her a rather expensive painting before Dad
mentioned it to me, so I had to decline. They bought the stuff, and hid it
in the garage to await the grand moment.
Then, one night when I was out- I
usually answer the phone- there was a phone call. Dad decided to be lazy
and let mom answer, since they were both in the living room. Then he
suddenly hears... "Lawn furniture? What lawn furniture? Kent, do you
know something about lawn furniture?" What had happened was, the
store records had gotten jumbled, and the store was phoning us to make
sure we hadn't been charged twice for it! Mom took one look at Dad's
panicked face, and said, "I don't think I was supposed to know about
that... my birthday's in two days." The lady who had phoned
apologized profusely for ruining the surprise, and we all decided to get
out the furniture a little early. ^^ Thank goodness my picture was still a
surprise!
Merchants0929-03
Several years ago my Mom and I took a
late evening trip to a well-known local crafts store. We arrived less than
an hour before the store closed but that was okay, as Mom just wanted to
pick up a few quick items. As Mom was doing her shopping I browsed the
store. I had been thinking about buying a particular print and noticed the
store had the perfect frame but I didn't see the size I needed.
I approached the framing counter to ask
if the store carried the frame in a larger size. When I got to the counter
the sales lady was engaged in a conversation (not store business - a
personal conversation) with a man. I waited patiently at the other end of
the counter. Her conversation probably lasted a good ten minutes during
which she never once acknowledged my presence. I was a bit irked by this
but let it slide.
Eventually, my mother finished her
shopping and joined me at the counter where I was still waiting for the
sales lady to help me. The sales lady was to my left and my mother was
standing to my right. My mother is also several inches shorter than me. I
mention this because when the man the sales lady was speaking too finally
ended the conversation (it was becoming increasingly clear she had no
intention of ending it) and finally approached, it was my mother she
addressed. Now, I was hardly a child when this happened. I was a young
adult (early twenties) and despite her inattention, I know she had seen me
waiting at her counter. I can only guess it was my young age that made her
feel she could be so rude to a customer.
Anyway, again I let her bad behavior
slide and said that I was the person needing help. To which she quickly
responded that she was sorry, but the store was closing. Incredulous, I
said, "Excuse me?" She again said in her most patronizing voice
that she was very sorry, but that the store was closing and she couldn't
help me. I stared at her for a moment, so taken aback that I was having a
difficult time grasping the situation. I finally said, "You let me
stand here for 10 minutes while you carried on a personal conversation and
now you won't help me?" She again repeated her regret that the store
was closing. Now finally grasping the situation I smiled sweetly and
thanked her and my mother and I began to walk away. Then I turned and
gently inquired if a manager were working this evening? She looked a bit
startled and said yes. I thanked her and began walking away from her
counter once again. She called after me and asked said that well; maybe
she could help me? I turned, smiled and said no thank you that she had
made it quite clear she did not want to help.
When I reached the front of the store I
asked for a Manager and told him my story. He offered to take me back to
the framing counter and speak to the sales lady. I refused his offer but
did tell him that I would be getting my print framed elsewhere due to her
behavior and to please let her know that the only help I needed was for
her to answer one question that would have taken far less of her time than
it had for her to have been so rude. Merchants1022-03
While I enjoy shopping at a particular
chain home improvement store, one particular branch in my area seems
somewhat lacking in the training of their employees when it comes to
customer service. I've had several problems with this particular store,
but the most blatant happened recently.
I was shopping with my elderly mother,
and happened to notice an area rug which interested me, but had no price
tag and was in a bin of remnants. The only employee in the department was
busy with a customer, completing what seemed to be a carpeting purchase,
so I stood off to the side and waited patiently. This store seems
chronically understaffed, and after a while, my Mother tired and said
she'd wait in the car. The phone on the desk rang, and the salesman
answered it, while eyeing me, and asked the caller to wait a moment. At
this point, I'd been waiting about 15 minutes. I really wanted that rug.
He finished with the carpet-purchaser, and walked to the phone. As he
picked it up, he said to me "I'll be with you in a few minutes, I
need to take care of this call -- it's a customer". As I gaped
at him, he began his call. What was I -- chopped liver? I set the rug down
and left the store. I didn't want the rug that bad. I'm still
waiting to calm down before writing a letter to the store manager; I
figure they'll want to know why they've lost so much business when the
other-brand store opens up down the street next month.
Merchants1201-03
I do have an etiquette hell story that
takes place in a nationwide chain store up here in Canada. It's one I shop
at all the time, have since I was 15, and I'm 30 now. Perfect style for
me, reasonable pricing and with one exception, my experiences with the
sales staff have been good.
At any rate, one Saturday a few months
ago, I'm shopping in the mall near my house, and go into the store to
purchase some dress pants and a shirt for work. For the record, and
important to this story, I stand about 5 feet tall and weigh in at around
100lb, give or take a couple. I have worn the same size since I was 14
years old. And I'm a 30-year-old woman. I'm not physically perfect, who
is? But I look pretty dang good when all is considered.
So I find a great pair of trendy black
dress pants, size 1, and a nice black button up blouse in a great crisp
fabric. I'm happy. And I don’t try things on in this store for 2
reasons. 1) I hate store lighting. I hate looking at myself in store
lighting. 2) I’ve shopped at this store for so long and have become so
familiar with their cuts and tailoring that I can more or less pull
something off the rack, look at it and say yes or no to the fit. Never had
a problem. At any rate, there I am, holding the shirt and pants and
looking around, with the vague idea of purchasing some inexpensive ultra
trendy item. The sales girl comes up to me, a young girl, about 17 or so.
Standard question is asked..."can I get you a change room?" I
most politely say no, and explain that I'm familiar with what size in that
store fits me. So the girl asks what size I'm holding. This has never been
asked of me before. Generally, when I refuse the dressing room, sales
people at other locations for this store then ask if they can take the
items to the counter to free up my hands for more shopping if I desire.
Stunned a bit, I responded. Size 1 for the pants, small for the shirt.
This girl, so rail thin she clearly buys into the bizarre and unobtainable
standard for beauty, glances at me up and down and SNORTS.
I did buy the clothes, I wanted them.
But at the counter, she again SNORTS as she's ringing up the sale. Never
said a word, but the snorting and the look on her face says it all. I can
still be seen when I turn to the side, therefore, I am fat.
When I got home, I was so furious, I
looked up the chain's website and fired off a furious email, not just to
customer service, but to every executive who's name I could find. And I
went back to that store the next day wearing the items, which fit
perfectly, carrying the receipt, which showed the girl's employee number,
and tore into the manager. That girl does not work there anymore.
Thankfully. But I never shop at that particular location. Merchants1228-03
I was 21, living with my parents and
working full time. My car was near death, and it was time to purchase a
new one (new to me, I mean...a used car was all I could afford). With my
limited income, I had to figure out exactly what I could afford and what
features I wanted. I came up with a list---had to have a working radio
(remember, I was only 21 and my priorities were different then!!), had to
have a working A/C, had to be automatic transmission, preferred a red car
if possible...and the payment had to be under $XX.XX dollars a month.
So, the search began. Since this would
be the first thing I'd ever financed, my Dad said he'd cosign for me, but
the responsibility for everything concerning the car was solely mine (as
it should be). I went to a few lots and answered a couple of ads, but
didn't find anything I wanted for the small amount of money I could spend.
My older brother mentioned that he had a
friend that was a used car salesman, and offered to put us in touch with
each other. This was a really good friend of his, from his high school
days, and he felt confident that he'd take care of me properly.
I visited the lot and found just the car
I was looking for...it had every feature I had wanted, was in good
condition, had low miles, and the price was right. I took it for a test
drive, and told him that I'd just discuss it with my Dad and we'd be back
the next day to sign the paperwork and make it all happen.
So far so good. The guy even said he'd
take the car over to my Dad's office the next morning (we worked for the
same company, but on different floors), if I wanted Dad to check out the
car for me, as well. Not being an expert, I certainly welcomed Dad's
guidance. He brought the car over; Dad checked it out; he agreed that it
was a good car for me; I told the salesguy to draw up the paperwork and
we'd come by that afternoon and sign everything. Great so far, huh?
Well...here's where the shoe drops...I
get a call from the salesguy late in the afternoon, right before I leave
work to go to the dealership. At that point he advises that the payment is
going to be MUCH higher than what we'd previously agreed upon. He then
tells me about all of these add ons that were driving the price up. I was
a little naive, admittedly--but I wasn't stupid. I told him absolutely
not, and that if I couldn't get the payment I wanted, then the deal was
off.
He chose to argue with me, thinking that
he could talk down to me and make me feel stupid---he tried every tactic
he could to make me feel like I was just a stupid girl for not
understanding the way things work when you buy a car. But--I'm the one who
had to pay for it, and I knew what I could and could not afford---there
was no way in the world he was going to talk me into paying more. I
finally just told him to forget the whole thing; I no longer wanted that
car at any price, and that I'd go somewhere else.
The next words out of his mouth just
floored me....he had the nerve to tell me to transfer him to my father's
office so that he could discuss it with him! I explained that Dad was just
the co-signer, that I was the decision-maker and that my decision was
made. He again insisted on talking to Dad. Fine. I transferred him. Dad's
great--he told the guy the same thing; it was my decision alone and that
was that.
My brother never talked to that guy
again.
As a postscript---it turns out that it
was a good thing that it happened. I went to a dealership just a mile away
from that one, found a better car, with lower mileage on it, with all of
the features I'd hoped for---for an even lower monthly payment than the
one I'd been negotiated for! I drove that car for five happy years...!
Merchants1218-03
I happened upon your site tonight and I
can honestly say that I have a story that would almost fit every category.
However, my most memorable, would be a "foot in the mouth"
episode. In the mid 90's I was a senior executive with an upscale,
well-known department store. I oversaw several departments, and had
recently hired a new associate for the women's shoe department, we'll call
her Helen. Helen was a very spirited lady, new to the area and very
talkative. She had been employed for only three weeks when I had to give
her first reprimand on taking too much of the clients time with idle chit
chat and discussing personal issues with complete strangers. It was
actually the first time I had to reprimand someone for building too much
customer rapport.
One particular day I was conducting an
audit of the shoe manager’s files, which was in an office directly
behind the cash register in the shoe department. I left the door cracked
so I could hear what was happening on the sales floor and mainly to hear
if Helen was conducting herself in a more professional manner. My in store
pager went off and I contacted the executive office upstairs. The Store
Manager wanted to give all department heads, and Group Exec's, the
"heads up" that actress Kim Bassinger was shopping in the store,
and to make sure that in no way she would be bothered with employee's
asking for autographs, etc.
Now, this wasn't an uncommon site. Ms.
Bassinger grew up in the area and her family were regular clients of the
store. And Ms. Bassinger herself was a regular client when she was in
town. It really wasn't a big deal to all of us who had been with the
company for several years, simply because our self made policy was to make
Ms. Bassinger's shopping experience as normal and uneventful as possible
by allowing her to shop and browse in peace without the usual stares, or
grouping closely around her. She was to be treated the same as any other
customer that shopped at our store. I immediately thought of Helen, and
stuck my head out of the office door and informed the shoe staff that Ms.
Bassinger was shopping today and was on the second level of the store, and
I reminded them of the usual "do not bother her" policy. I asked
one of the Senior Associates to explain this policy to Helen, as I noticed
her standing there with her jaw almost hitting the floor. The Associate
was explaining the policy in-between the, "Oh My Goodness!!",
"I can't believe a movie star is in the store", comments that
Helen was making. I continued with my audit, and noticed an unusual
quietness finally settling on the sales floor. I thought to myself that
Helen had finally understood and was on her best behavior.
Thirty minutes, or more, had passed and
I was deep into trying to resolve an inventory problem that I discovered,
and my pager went off again. Again I called and was informed that security
had seen Ms. Bassinger exit into the mall on the second level. Since I was
deep into trying to resolve the inventory problem, I went straight back to
working on it, and since all clients and customers are to be treated
equally the same, I didn't bother informing the sales floor of Ms.
Bassinger's departure from the store. However, the news traveled quickly
and as I kept my eyes on my work, I kept my ears open to what was
happening outside the door. Helen's chatter started to pick up again. I
could hear moans and gripes of how she had missed her chance to actually
see a celebrity in person and possibly assist her. About ten minutes
elapsed and I could hear Helen assisting a customer at the check out
register, she was explaining with excitement of how Ms. Bassinger was in
the store, and went on to state that she really wasn't a fan or watched
any of Ms. Bassinger's films, but how it would have been great to meet her
and went on and on about how Ms. Bassinger was from the area and a
frequent shopper. etc etc etc.
Normally I would have already stopped
her by now, however I found the answer to the inventory problem, and was
making the necessary adjustments. Finally, hearing enough of the chat, I
decided I would go out and politely interrupt, and give the customer a
chance to flee. I could hear giggles from the other associates, figuring
the laughter was due to Helen's little rant. As I exited the office and
approached Helen from behind, I noticed the customer that she had spent
more than ten minutes giving the "Movie Star" rant to, was none
other than Kim Bassinger herself. Apparently Ms. Bassinger had reentered
the store on the first level only a few minutes after she had exited on
the second. For whatever reason security failed to notice. Helen failed to
recognize her as well as failing to notice Ms. Bassinger's name on the
credit card receipt. And the other associates didn't inform me due to them
being fed up with Helen's constant chatter, and now she was getting her
just deserves. Since I had been with the company many years and had
assisted Ms. Bassinger in the past, she recognized me as management and
smiled brightly and said softly "It's ok". She gathered her
shopping bags, thanked Helen for the assistance, and quickly exited the
store.
As I was about to give Helen the
"big speech" on what had just happened. It came to me that it
could really devastate her. As she was putting away some shoes to the
stock room, I told the other associates not to mention to her as to what
happened, and I was very upset with all of them for allowing Helen to
embarrass herself like that, and I would have the Shoe Manager speak to
her concerning the chit chat problem. The following day, the Shoe Manager
contacted me in my office and stated Helen had called and stated she was
never coming back, and didn't give a reason and then simply hung up. I
guess she found out after all. To this day I still sometimes wonder what
became of Helen. However there are two things that I'm pretty sure of,
One, I'm sure Helen isn't as talkative to strangers as she use to be, and
Two, Ms. Kim Bassinger has A LOT of class.
Merchants1128-03
I received a phone call one day from a
person I had never spoken with before. It turns out she had received my
name from a friend of mine as a sales referral. She said that she was
selling products and she gets paid whether she sells or not, just so that
she does a complete demonstration. She was really nervous on the
telephone, stuttering and asking me to repeat myself several times. I
explained that I did not have a lot of money right now, but she could do
her demonstration if it would help her make some money with the company.
Because I have a similar business where I meet people in their homes, I
wanted to help her out.
She arrived a half-hour later than she
said she would. I had the living room completely cleaned for this
demonstration and was leading her in that direction when she said, "I
need to use the kitchen table." Flustered, because I was in the
middle of taking care of dishes, I cleared off the table and offered her
something to drink. She immediately took notice of my countertop
dishwasher and started talking about it. I just explained that the
apartment didn't have dishwasher hookups. My one-year old daughter was a
bit fussy, and she said "Maybe your husband can take your baby so I
can do this without interruption." I was feeling pretty amazed that
someone who wanted to sell something could be so rude... but it gets a lot
worse.
She was incredibly nervous, saying the
phrase "type thing" about a million times. She was selling
knives, and told me she needed a penny, a piece of paper, and two of my
knives. You would think she could bring her own paper and penny? She cut
the penny in half with her amazing scissors from the set. She asked me to
try out the knife to cut a tomato she had brought. So I cut the tomato and
she says "Oh, that's an awfully big slice." and I was wondering
if I was wasting too much of her precious tomato. She produced a rope and
asked me to cut through it with my knife. Well I have really old knives,
and it wouldn't cut the rope at all. She said, "Just forget it!"
Suddenly, in mid-demonstration, she says
"I'm sorry, but I just have to comment on that dishwasher again!
Couldn't you hire a plumber to make a dishwasher hook-up for you?" I
said, "I just don't have lot of money, especially to spend on an
apartment." More talk about knives, going slowly through each and
every knife. She slices up an onion, then goes to rinse off her cutting
board. She points at the dishes in my sink and says, "Don't worry
about that mess!" I hadn't worried about it until she pointed it out!
When it finally seemed as though she was
wrapping up, she showed me the packages of knives, and they were all at
astronomical costs for us, at about 80 dollars per knife. She asked me if
I wanted to purchase any of them. I told her "I will talk to my
husband about it." My husband was in the other room playing with my
daughter, so she says, "He's right in there, how long can it take to
talk about it?" AAAAAAAA! She told me that on the piece of paper,
could I write down the names of five people and their phone numbers, and
if I did it she would give me a snazzy potato peeler. I explained that I
would want to ask permission before adding peoples names to a list, and
that I would get back to her.
She's getting ready to leave after TWO
HOURS, and says, "I didn't think it would take this long but you
wasted some time talking about other things." I couldn't believe it.
First off it was her who wasted MY TIME, not the other way around, and it
was her who went on about non-knife related things!
To put the cherry on the cake, she
called me two weeks later and asked me about the list of references. I
explained to her that I was very busy and didn't have time for this. She
said "Well, this is how I make money you know!" And I'm thinking
that for all the work I'm expected to do to make her money I should be on
the pay roll! I took the experience as a What Not To Do When Trying To
Make A Sale learning experience.
Merchants1203-03
Page Last Updated May 18, 2007
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