Is it just me or has the whole world of retailing gone mad? I went to a furniture store this past weekend to buy two bar stools for my daughter’s birthday. She has 2 wicker bar stools now and some of the wicker isn’t there anymore. Sandy and I had checked out the selection last week and she sent me to the store on Saturday to purchase two. I found a clerk and showed him what I wanted, we walked over to his computer and the following inane conversation took place.
“I just need your name and address.”
”No, I’m just paying cash. ”
”Well I need your name for our records. ”
”I don’t want to be on any of your lists or in your computer. I just want to buy these 2 bar stools and give you cash. I earned this money from a legal business. It’s not drug money and it is legal tender. ”
”I’m sorry sir but its company policy.”
”Well it’s my policy not to give out personal information.”
”Well we need this information. If there is a problem with the chairs we can call you.”
”How will you know there’s a problem? If there is a problem with the chairs, I’ll call you.”
”You don’t understand sir. I have to have a name on this form.”
”Well put your name on it. Use John Doe. Use John Smith. Use Cash Sale
”Ok, I think I know a way we can get around this.”
At this point I look over his shoulder while he types up the order. In the space for name he dutifully types Wood Notgivename. He then gives me a sales slip and tells me to go to the front of the store and give my money to the cashier. Some people may say that I am just too unreasonable and that I should have just given him the information but I was tired. I was tired of dealing with incompetent customers. I was tired of dealing with stupidity at work. I am tired of dealing with idiotic policies. I am tired of politicians and stupid people in general. I just wasn’t going to take any more guff from anyone. I dug my heals in and now I was happy since I won the battle. I walked to the front of the store and I waited in line until an elderly woman motions for me to come to her counter window. I hand her my sales slip and my money, glad that I’m almost out of the store. She gives me back my change and says, “Just sign here.”
“What for?”
“To show that you have paid for your merchandise.”
“Why don’t you sign it to show that I’ve paid? Or here’s a novel idea. If you give me my receipt we both will know that I have paid for the merchandise.”
“Sir, you have to sign this. It’s company policy.”
“Listen, lady. I don’t care what your policy is. I go into a grocery store and give them cash and they give me groceries. I don’t have to sign anything. I buy hardware in a hardware store and give them cash and nothing has to be signed. I pay for my meal at a restaurant and pay cash. I don’t have to sign anything. I don’t need to sign anything here. I’ve paid for the merchandise and I want my receipt so I can pick it up.”
My voice is getting louder and people in all five lines are starting to look at the clerk. She decides to end this brilliant debate and she gives me my receipt with my order number and tells me to take that receipt to the Northwest gate and pick up my furniture there. I give her my best fake smile and say thank you. It was dripping with sincerity. I can’t be sure but as I was walking away I could swear she was sticking her tongue out at me.
I got in my pickup and drove to the appropriate gate. A young lady on the speaker asked me my sales order number and then directed me to parking space #17. I parked there and 5 minutes later a young man came out with my bar stools on a dolly. We loaded the box into my pickup and then it happened again.
“I just need your driver’s license number,” he said.
I looked to the heavens and quickly said a prayer to God, asking him to smite every employee there with boils, hives and a dose of intelligence. I waited for 10 seconds and when nothing happened I told him that it was private information and he wasn’t going to get my drivers license number. I quickly shut the tailgate so he couldn’t get the box back. I showed him my receipt and told him that should be all that proof he needed that I paid for the bar stools.
“Well then I have to take down your VIN number.”
He walks to the windshield and I follow. I put my hand over the VIN number just because I was tired of being jerked around. He walks toward the back of the pickup to get my license number and I quickly jump into my truck and pull away. Just to show that there were no hard feelings I give him a quick wave. He waves back and now I feel sorry for him because I realize he must have had an accident at some time in his life. He was waving with only one finger. I wonder if that also was company policy.
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