Dear Safeway: SHHHHHHHHH.
posted Thursday April 26th, 2012
Good morning, welcome to Starbucks! This is (insert perky name, I think it was Marissa), how are you today?
Hi. Could I please get a hot grande non-fat latte?
Pause.
How are you?
Oh fuck. I pissed off the Starbucks girl. Everyone who’s ever heard the one about the Jack in the Box clerk who spit on the Jumbo Jack knows what a mistake that is. In my defense, it was early in the morning, I was in a rush (no time to wait half an hour for a perfectly crafted espresso drink at the Portlandia-esque coffee shop down the street), and frankly, I can’t believe that girl really cares how I am. As a friend pointed out, she’s probably just as annoyed at having to ask the question as I am at having to answer it.
In any case, I made nice with her, got my (hopefully spit-free) latte and went on my way.
What is it with fake-nice customer service these days? Last week the clerk at Walgreen’s welcomed me heartily when I arrived and yelled after me to “stay healthy” when I left.
All I want is to be left alone. I don’t know about you, but pretty much the only quiet time I get is when I’ve escaped by myself to the drug store or the market. Please don’t talk to me; can’t you see I’m deep in reflective meditation? OHMMMMM.
The other day I really got frazzled at Safeway. I was there solo on a Saturday afternoon — frankly, I don’t know how I managed, since Ray lately finds it fun to shop as a family (which is why the cupboard is packed with Hormel microwave dinners, Top Ramen and Cheetos) but I did, and I was pulling out a cart and heading to the produce section when I heard it.
HEY EVERYONE, WE JUST GOT A ONE DOLLAR DONATION FOR PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES! WE’RE DOUBLING THAT TO TWO DOLLARS! WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know how when you pay at Safeway, you can usually check a box and give a couple dollars to a charity? Well, turns out, this month is Special Olympics month, and they’ve upped the ante (at my Safeway, at least) and management is matching donations and also, I soon realized, on this day letting anyone who contributed money spin a wheel to win prizes that I think included baked potato chips and bottled water.
That’s nice, I thought as I browsed the apple aisle. After all, Sophie is now in Special Olympics, and just a couple weeks ago I waxed on about how amazing the program is. I’m sure it costs a lot to run; it’s wonderful that people are contributing money and that my neighborhood Safeway — which also employs a few people with developmental disabilities as baggers — is so supportive.
By the time I got to the soda aisle, I’d changed my mind. The store was packed and every 15 seconds or so, the loudspeaker would come on and the manager would shriek about another $1 or $3 donation. Then yell WOO HOO at the top of her lungs.
And then it would start again. Somewhere around the eggs, I was pretty sure I was going to lose it. But I’d already invested 20 minutes in shopping; what was I going to do with a full cart? I couldn’t ditch it (like I’ve done at IKEA, I will admit) — I had perishables. So I kept going. There would be no quiet reflection today; instead I tried to figure out why (aside from the decible level) this was bugging me so much.
These people are just trying to be nice, I told myself. And they are nice! They are nicer than you, they are helping others and they probably don’t even have a family member in Special Olympics, so they really are pure of heart. Just helping their fellow man; no agenda, no conversion after having a kid with Down syndrome. Get over it, Amy. They are just having fun.
And then the loudspeaker came on again, and I changed my mind. There is no way that woo-hoo-ing manager really gets it, I thought.
Or maybe she does. Maybe she totally gets it. And maybe (probably) her woo-hooing is a lot more attractive than my boo-hooing. In any case, I’m not sure I can shop at Safeway much longer.
By the time I got to the check-out aisle, my head was spinning. I emptied my cart and pushed it toward the bagger, who looked at me funny and asked, “Ma’m, did you want to buy this stuff?”
I looked down. The cart was still half full. I apologized profusely, emptied the cart and slid my card to pay. The screen popped up: Did I want to donate for people with developmental disabilities?
“Pssst.” I got the clerk’s attention. “Hey,” I said as quietly as I could over all the noise, “I want to donate some money, but I don’t want anyone announcing it, or yelling WOO HOO or anything like that. Okay?”
She gave me a dirty look.
“See, I have a daughter and she’s in Special Olympics and I know I’m overly sensitive, but this whole woo hooing thing is driving me crazy, it’s just too much.”
Her face changed. “I know how you feel,” she said softly, as she motioned the manager over. “I have a niece.”
Ha! I’m writing a post right now about that check box thing. I HATE IT and when I was shopping the other day, the cashier asked me something. I couldn’t hear (of course), said, “what?” – she repeated herself. Still couldn’t hear (of course) and said, “I’m deaf – what did you say – speak clearly and look at me please” and so she looks at me and says, “WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE A DONATION TO PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES?”. I look at her and laugh, Look at my daughter, who I was holding (she has Down syndrome) look back at her and LAUGH and say, “oh, you are funny. No.”
Hmm. Good one, Amy. I totally understand about wanting to be left alone and STFU on the hollow platitudes.
At my “Safeway” (and virtually every other retail store with shopping carts), check out starts with “Didja find everything all right?”
While I’d really like to reply, “Wouldja like me to punch your lights out?”, my default repertoire follows:
“(mumble affirmative)”
“No, but that’s OK; I wasn’t looking for everything.”
“How should I answer that question?”
“No, but I would have, if you’d stop rearranging the gol-dang store every month.”
“If I said no, are you empowered to do anything about it?” (This one usually results in a Code Yellow @ register 4 (difficult customer) to summon the manager; I’ve learned to use this one only if I’m sufficiently miffed because they quit carrying, say, my favorite Qtips package.)
“This time I actually DID find everything.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you ask everybody that.”
I guess I’m lucky that they’ve never punched my lights out.
My husband says he’ll give them money for not saying the “woo-hoo”. It’s annoying. The latest annoyance is from the clerks that take the receipt, circle the customer service number, write down their name and ask you to respond to a “quick” customer survey about the outstanding service, to be eligible for a shopping spree. Meanwhile, there’s a line growing and all you want to do is grab your bag and go.
Yes, yes, yes, I completely agree! I DO NOT want to chat with clerks in stores. I don’t even like when they hand me my receipt and try to pronounce my name. We are not friends I want to say, you don’t have to pretend to know my name. And while I love the ease of checking a box and donating, I don’t want to be offered a bottle of water. And I don’t want to put my name on a paper shoe either. I just want to go home, pour myself a glass of wine, and eat my dinner.
Just read your latest aloud to John. We laughed along with each joke and the last sentence ended it so nicely. Glad to hear I’m not the only one who sees solo trips to Safeway as much needed alone time.
I love your writing.
I curently work at Safeway, and believe me, there are times when i could just let the costumers just shop with out the standerd protacall over and over again…
I greet and antisapate but I also give the costumer an option, becuase giving a costumer an option is way better in my opintion instead of assuming that they are dumb and can’t figure it out by themselves.
As for the name on your reciept, I know it’s a biggy. We are told to do that. I like it on the other hand becuase it give the checker to reconize their costumer by their name incase of a problem instead of calling them “that costumer over there in the ugly green sweater” or “that fat Lady/Man in the really bad outfit who has fifty million kids”.
Also it would be cool if you let the checker know before hand that you aren’t looking for ‘special’ attention (standered protocall) and to reasure them that they are doing a fine job and let the courtacy clerk/checker know as well and if you want help out with your grocerys or not before hand. There wo’t be much jibber after that.
And also, just let the checker know your feed back by filling out your feed back card. The store is always up for some aprovements. sometime is may not be quick but it’ll help alot.
I love reading stuff like this, it makes my day and helps me be a better retail clerk.
Safeway has this program ( secret shopper) that they do to insure their employees insure great service, if not then it’s the chopping block for most. Just help us, help you.