So I’m about a month into my seasonal gig as a Customer Service Associate for a major home improvement chain (the blue one, not the orange one).  To put it bluntly, it has been an interesting few weeks.  Now, I have been around a lot of businesses in my time, and I’d like to think I know a thing or two about customer service (no matter what the product).  For many years, I worked for an entertainment giant that epitomizes that phrase (and – hint, hint – it had a large, talking rodent issue), so I’d like to think I learned from one of the best.

That being said, I’m constantly surprised at the types of people that I encounter in my current job on a daily basis.  Just when I think I’ve seen it all, along comes some unique individual that not only breaks the mold, but also serves to weaken my teetering faith in humanity as a whole.  I’m finding (once again) that the majority of the shopping public is rude, impatient, and extremely uniformed.

I wish I could say that the “shopping challenged” were the minority of my interactions, but alas – that would be a falsehood.  Seriously.  To be fair, I’d say that maybe four out of ten people are courteous, pleasant, know what they want, and don’t assume that because I have on a red vest, I’m an expert in all things related to lawn chemicals and outdoor power equipment.  They understand that – in the end – I’m a sales clerk.  Period.  I spend the bulk of my time replacing everything on the shelves that customers buy from the store (which is a staggering amount – believe me).  If you have a specific question, I can look some things up for you online, if needed (you know, Google works for everyone – not just me), but beyond that, my expertise runs the gamut from “hazy” to “I have no idea what you are talking about”.  Sure, I’m learning more about my department and products every single day, but come on people – give me a break.  Shoppers press me for advice constantly on what chain saw to buy, is this air conditioner more energy efficient than that one, or which one is the best bug killer or grass seed, and I have to be honest – I’m making it up most of the time.  I won’t outright tell you a falsehood, but I’m learning how to word my statements more carefully than a third-year law student.

Here’s a little message to the 60% of shoppers who expect a consumer miracle every time they speak with me.  No – I don’t have photographic memory that can recall all of the entries of the “cross over” spark plug catalog.  I do not have a PhD in Mechanical Engineering (with a minor in Chemistry).  I’m not an expert at bird seed formularies or animal behavior.  Still, if I admit that lack of knowledge to anyone who asks, they react as if I just gave them the news that their house has been foreclosed upon or I’ve ordered a litter of puppies to be euthanized in the parking lot.  Calm down, madam.  It’s just a hummingbird feeder.  I’m sure any one of them will work for you.

Here are some of the most common types of questions I hear multiple times per day while working the floor:

 

“Excuse me, sir?  Quick question….”

This is an outright lie.  A quick question is “what aisle is the grass seed in?” or “can you tell me where the bathrooms are?”  When the above phrase is uttered, it means that I’m about to get a fifteen minute backstory that has nothing to do with the actual question.  These are also generally posed to me when I’m on a ladder, carrying a 40 pound box of chemicals, tugging on a mower 20 feet up on a shelf, or the crème de la crème – while I’m actually talking on the phone to someone else.  Hey, it’s all about YOU.  I understand.

 

“I need a replacement for this……”

This statement is followed by the person handing me a length of wire, a piece of mangled plastic, or the disembodied leg of a small animal and then asking me to find a copy of it.  If not handed a part, there will be a general description given, such as “I need a belt for my mower.”  At this point, the transaction quickly becomes a bad episode of PBS’s “Masterpiece Theatre”, as Sherlock Holmes (played by me) will now try to deduce what type of mower the village cobbler is talking about as we stand in front of the replacement belts section.

“What type of mower is it?” starts the inquiry.

“I don’t know,” comes the response.

“Do you know what size belt you need?”

“No,” continues the cobbler, now visibly annoyed.

“Do you know what size the mower deck is?” asks Sherlock.

“I know it’s a red mower – I bought it here three years ago,” says the cobbler, now angry that Sherlock Holmes is not better at charades or mind reading.

“I don’t think we have it,” says Holmes, still trying to sound polite, but clearly over the entire conversation.  “You may want to try ‘Tractor Supply’ across the street or ‘Eby’s’ out on Cearfoss Pike.”

The cobbler stomps off in disgust, but look on the bright side – one of us is happier.

 

“Do you have (insert product here)?  It says online that you have six in the store”

Technology is a wonderful thing.  It is also a terrible thing.  Just because the internet says that we have six of something does not mean that they are within my reach, can be easily obtained, or – in some cases – are easily accessible.  They may be hidden in the receiving area or on top of a shelf somewhere else in the store.

Shrink-wrapped.

On a pallet.

Twenty-five feet up.

If I can find it, it will then require a forklift (and an operator and spotter) to get to the location and pull it down.  This will not happen in the next five minutes.  Do you really need a rain gauge that badly?  Here’s an idea.  When you see it online, just order it online.  Amazingly, it can be picked up at the store later or – I know this sounds miraculous – but it can be delivered right to your home.  Technology in action.  Who knew?

 

“Hey, where are the (insert any product not in my department)?”

I’m just beginning to figure out where things are in my section, and now you’re going to ask me about stucco, iron gates, or something totally weird like “Gatorade”.  Generally, this question is shouted at me from a distance.  Old men in hats and ladies in the store-supplied motorized wheel chairs just love to do this, and will punctuate the command by holding up their finger like they are summoning a waiter.  They could care less what I am doing at the time.  They want an answer and they want it now.  I’ve started to combat this by confidently just naming off an aisle on the far side of the store.  My favorite is “Try Hardware – Aisle 14”.  If you mention anything with metal (and have an attitude), I’m probably going to ship you off to Hardware – quickly.

 

“Do you work in Plumbing?”

Am I standing in Plumbing?  No?  Well, there’s your answer, Steven Hawking.

 

Honestly, I’m an easy-going person.  I want to help you, but there are days (like Saturdays and Sundays) when the store gets hit harder than a busload of teenagers at a ‘Ci-Ci’s’ pizza buffet.  I’m just trying to survive the shift.  Let’s all just take a deep breath and get through this, OK?  We’ll find your yard stakes, 60W lightbulbs, or organic fertilizer.

It’s just home improvement supplies.  Ain’t nobody gonna die.