One Simple Thing Can Keep Your Customers Coming Back.

I hate shopping.  Especially department store shopping.  It's lost on me why menswear is always on the top floor and has to be navigated via a system of escalators that are never adjacent to each other so in order to keep going up you have to venture through various other departments.  The general consensus is that women enjoy shopping more than men.  Why not put menswear on the ground floor so that men can nip in and out with minimal fuss while women can peruse the store at their leisure.  Also, I would imagine that women are more likely to buy their mens' clothes than vice versa so it makes more sense for women to have to stumble though the menswear department to get to their desired destination.  Right?

When I do go shopping, I favour the self-checkout.  It's incredibly annoying, after queueing up for an unacceptable amount of time, to be confronted by someone behind the counter who treats you like a serious inconvenience.  I'm a courteous man, I always say please and thank you and it positively astounds me that some shop staff can barely bring themselves to make eye contact.  It is this lack of general courtesy that pushes me towards the self-checkout.  I find the interaction there has more mutual respect.

I tend to do most of my shopping online these days.  I often work from home so can receive deliveries.  It's a painless way to get what you need at a preferable price.  Sometimes I'm forced to go shopping though.  Like today.  Now, if you read my last blog, you will know that I bought my mother-in-law a lovely teaset for her birthday but my partner relayed the information to me this morning that she actually asked for a new knife block and as I'm the one who is more flexible with my working day, could I pick one up?  Gah!

So, of course, being the well-brought up snob that I am, I headed for 'Everyone's Favourite Department Store'.  I happened to be driving around the North Circular to a client meeting so a quick visit to Brent Cross wouldn't interfere with my day too much.  It did interfere with my mood though.  I parked at the wrong end of the centre so the store was a lengthy walk away and it was fairly busy so I had to navigate through the hordes of yummy mummies and their little darlings.  I finally located the store but my trial wasn't over as I then had to find the kitchenware department.  Who designs these shopfloors?  I was close to calling Bear Grylls for assistance.  

Once I was in kitchenware, I then had to find the knife blocks.  I asked a young man in a regulation shirt if he could help me locate them but he had difficulty too, he shrugged his shoulders and told me to ask at the till.  The till was busy, there was a queue.  I waited.  And waited.  There were two people behind the till dealing with one customer.  The people in front of me were becoming tetchy, I began to prickle.  This isn't good enough.  It wouldn't be as bad if the staff behind the counter acknowledged the queue but it's the ignorance that I can't abide.  I left.  Empty-handed.  If they didn't want my money I'd spend it elsewhere.

I got back to the car, annoyed.  I sat there thinking if I had just taken a deep breath and waited five more minutes, I'd have the knife block and the chore would be done, as it stands I've taken 25 minutes out of my day and I have nothing.  Except my pride!  Ha! They lost out on a sale today.  That'll show 'em!  On the news tonight they'll say the shares of 'Everyone's Favourite Department Store' have plummeted due to low sales of knife blocks.  I'm sticking it to the man!

As I drove on a bit further, I came across an Argos Superstore on Staples Corner.  I hesitated.  It's been a long time since I shopped in Argos.  It's a bit chavvy, innit?  I'd long gone given up with the low-end of the High Street but here it was calling out to me.  My mother-in-law doesn't have to know her present came from Argos, they sell branded goods, I can throw away the carrier and giftwrap it in some Harrods paper.

I took a gamble, I drove in and got a parking space opposite the front door.  I held my breath and walked in.  I was immediately relieved to see a spacious, clean and well-lit showroom.  Of course, you don't have to navigate departments and escalators here, everything you need is in the catalogue.  You can go shopping whilst standing still - Amazing!  Also they have keypads so you can check if your item is in stock.  They've really thought of the anti-shopper here, I'm impressed.  I was in luck, the block was in stock so I filled in the little order form with the tiny pencil and headed over to the Quick Card Kiosk.  Great, they have self-checkout, I don't even have to talk to someone who can't stand the very fact that I dared to go into their shop and tried to buy something.  I am peaking.  I go to the Quick Card Kiosk and type in my product number.  Damn.  It's a block with knives which makes it an age-restricted item.  I have no option but to go to the cashier.  This wasn't supposed to happen.  Damn.  I read the screen again just in case, nope, it's still there, I have to go the cashier.  Oh well, here goes nothing...

There is a small queue but it is moving swiftly and by the time I get there, a cashier is free.  She greets me with a warm smile and says hello.  I'm a bit taken aback, has she mistaken me for someone off the telly?  She looks genuinely pleased to see me.  She takes my little slip of paper and apologises that I couldn't use the Quick Card Kiosk as my item has an age restriction.  I didn't prompt this, she'd clocked it all and saw me come over to her till.  She then explained why the knife block was age-restricted - kids and knives don't mix.  I said what if a kid wanted to go to a fancy dress party as Wolverine?  She said they'd have to go as Alvin Stardust coz let's face it, Wolverine is just Alvin Stardust with some fancy knife-hands.  She's absolutely right!  She made me laugh.  A lot.  She then told me that my order would be ready in four minutes.  I doubted this but it didn't matter, I was in a good mood and willing to wait a bit longer for my goods but, just like Rose said, I was walking out of there in 4 minutes with my mother-in-law's present under my arm.  Brilliant.

I never thought I would say this but I had the most pleasant shopping experience of recent times in an Argos store.  Presumably Rose gets the same wages as most other shop staff in this country.  I'm sure that when she was at school, she didn't dream about working in Argos and I'm sure she would most probably prefer to be at home or out shopping herself than sat behind a till all day.  The difference between Rose and the other till people I have encountered is that I have felt the apathy seeping from the others, they made me feel their pain, they shared their disdain.  Rose actually made me forget that I'd just had a prickly experience in 'Everyone's Favourite Department Store', she actually made me forget I was doing a boring chore.  She engaged with me and made me feel like I was a valued addition to her day and I actually went out of there with a smile on my face.  A happy customer. 

I won't be so quick to write off Argos again.  A shopping experience has little to do with the exclusivity of the brand or the expense of the shop fittings, the mood lighting and the BPM of the instore soundtrack.  You can spend millions perfecting what the retail gurus dictate.   It all boils down to the personal transaction between the staff and the customer.  If there is someone like Rose with the widest smile, a warm disposition and a quickfire wit then an anti-shopper like me will leave more than satisfied and who knows?  I may even come back!

Right, I need to get ready to go to dinner with the mother-in-law.  Now, where is that Harrods' wrapping paper?