Do I look like a thief? Obviously, that's a rhetorical question, because only a sprinkling of you have ever seen me in person. True, I leave the house looking like a bum on some days (today included), but I don't read "thief."
Okay, see, because I worked in retail for longer than I care to remember, I know how to spot a sketchy customer. Even to this day if I'm in Wal*Mart and see some character behaving suspiciously, 90% of the time I can pick out if they're just weird or if they're waiting for you to go away so they can shoplift.
I don't fit the thief profile. For one thing, being pregnant means being slow. I'm not going to shove an electric pencil sharpener under my shirt and then try to make a run for it. I stand far enough back from the displays that you can see everything I'm doing. I carry a purse too small to stuff anything of significance into. If I have to get a shopping list or the phone out of my purse, I make a big show of it so that those people watching me on the security monitors can see that I'm not stealing.
That being said, I don't like being customer-serviced. Let me examine the 47 varieties of #10 envelopes in peace before you ask me if I need help. If I'm scratching my head and looking back and forth between two packages, you may assist. If I'm just standing back taking in the display - shoo. I'm more than likely comparing prices.
I know a lot of these big retail chains (clothing stores, especially) force their employees to provide proactive customer service, but I find it annoying. I just want to be left alone to shop until I either need help or want to be checked out. I don't want to waste four words ("I'm fine, thank you.") on someone. I need that energy to yell at the cats.
Posted by Tiffany at August 31, 2006 05:14 PM | TrackBack