Experience

“How was your shopping experience?” the cashier at Office Max asked me the other day. I was momentarily flummoxed. Foolish me, I was not aware that I was having a shopping experience. I thought I was dashing in the store to buy a box of envelopes, one of a number of stops on my long list of errands.

I had just come from my grocery store which trains their employees to be pleasant to customers. If employees do not say hello to every customer and are not genuinely helpful, they are let go after one month. A young man who was stocking the dairy case said “hello” to me three times as I walked back and forth searching for the blue cheese. Then, right on cue, the check out lady inquired,”Have you found everything you were looking for today?”

Do not misinterpret my remarks here. I find this grocery store far superior to the one where I previously shopped. When I asked a cashier there which aisle an item was located, she snapped, “I don’t know I never shop here.”

Before the grocery store stop, a barista had asked me how my day was going. Knowing these poor employees are forced to ask this question, I always resist the urge to say, “the cat threw up fur balls all over the kitchen counter, I was late for work and I’m coming down with a cold.”

So when I was asked the quality of my shopping experience, I gave my standard answer, “fine”.

“Is that all?” was the cashier’s reply.

And then the goddess of truth inspired me and I said,” Actually my shopping experience would have been greatly enhanced if you were making a living wage, your job was full time, you had sick leave and health insurance and you didn’t have to ask me inane questions.”

Now the cashier was the flummoxed one until she recovered and said, “We should go out for a glass of wine together.”

wine

 

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