View from the Cottage

The customer is always right—sometimes

Two back-to-back retail experiences yesterday have left me shaking my head in puzzlement. Friday, I called in my weekend order to Central Market, and Christian kindly picked it up for me. I had ordered a jar of pickled herring and specified in the note that I wanted herring in wine but not the dill marinated that was online. I got the dill marinated. Not the end of the world, but I mentioned it when I filled out the usual market survey.

Let me preface this by saying the people who staff the Central Market curbside pickup may well be the nicest people I have ever dealt with—polite, accommodating, cheerful. It’s a joy to do business with them. Yesterday someone from that department called to apologize about the herring and let me know that they were refunding the cost of the item plus my service fee. Once again, proof that it pays to be a regular customer. They certainly didn’t have to do that, but I much appreciated the gesture.

Jordan and I ran errands Saturday morning and stopped by a store where I needed one item. It too is a store I frequent often and have for many years. And the one item was something I use frequently. For a single thing, it didn’t seem worth unloading the walker and me, so I told Jordan what I wanted, and she even made a note on her phone to be sure she had it right. The store carries two similar things, but I cannot use the one and rely on the other product. When I got home, I found I had the one I had specifically said not to get. Jordan was angry because she clearly told them what she wanted and got the opposite.

I’ve always been told you catch more flies with a teaspoon of sugar than a cup of vinegar, so when I called, I was prepared to be sweet. That attitude changed quickly. The salesperson who answered said, “Oh, you can always bring it back,” so I explained about the walker and that it was difficult. She went on to assure me that she wasn’t in the store when Jordan was, and it was clearly not her fault. I finally told her I was waiting for her to say, “Sorry.” Oh well, of course she was sorry, but it wasn’t her fault. I said I’d try to get it Monday and would call first, so she assured me she wouldn’t be in Monday, to which I said good, maybe someone more helpful would be.

A few minutes later, the person who had waited on Jordan called. (I am pretty sure I would recognize her from frequent trips to the store if I saw her in person.) Her take on it was that they had two similar products—I told her I was well aware of that since I’d used the one for years. “Well, your daughter wasn’t sure which one you wanted.” I was rude. I interrupted and said quite firmly, “She knew perfectly well which one I wanted. She even wrote it down.” The salesperson (who do I remember that called them shop girls?) tried again, “She wasn’t sure,” and I said “Yes, she was.” She did finally agree to give me curbside service for a swap on Monday

They were both so busy telling me it wasn't their fault that I wanted to tell them they needed some of Stanley Marcus’ philosophy—‘The customer is always right”—or Marshall Field’s, whose motto was, “Give the lady what she wants.”