When the execs come to visit the store: what’s real and what’s typical?

Parents’ Day at summer camp is usually a kid’s first lesson in the art of spin, optics, presentation, veneer and varnish. This is the day the food is better, cabins are swept, and everyone’s smiling. As soon as the last car leaves, the gussied-up, rustic Eden reverts to its usual repose as juvenile hellhole.

It’s still shocking how many times we’re in the field on store visits with retail executives and hear how great this particular location is—only to see later the abyss that it truly is when we’re reviewing video that’s been captured with “mom and dad” not around. When a regional manager happens to be in the store, customers are magically lavished with help and praise and good cheer. There’s a bustle about the store, with purposeful professionals doing the Lord’s work of selling and stocking and just being busy and fussy. Products are laser-lined on every shelf. It’s all quite—what’s the word?—lovely.

Until it isn’t. Which is usually the next day.

We see lots of non-sales winning behaviors as soon as stores return to “normal.” The customer greetings are weaker, contact interactions on the floor are less effective, and products look sloppier. Rote recitation often takes hold, where associates go through the motions.

It’s no wonder when we’ve asked retail executives how much time they believe their associates are in direct contact with customers, giving assistance, the answer is sometimes in excess of 40 percent—a belief the staff is spending almost half its time attending to the needs of the shopper. This is their experience, and may well be what’s occurring when they’re in the field observing. But when we show them the day-in and day-out reality—sometimes at 12% or less—it’s an eye-opening experience.

Kind of like sneaking a peek at camp the day after Parents’ Day.

Engaging with the customer

“Can I help you?”

“Doing okay over here?”

“How’s everything?”

We’ve all been on the shopper’s end of these low-value contact questions in stores, restaurants and whatever chain retailer trains its associates with the blunt instrument of “engage the customer.” It’s gotten to the point where such expressions are so empty, they’ve become little more than verbal tics on the part of employees—rote recitations they almost cease to be conscious of even asking.

And there’s a perfect synchronicity to this, since customers are barely conscious of these low-impact greetings, either. In our work with retailers, we hear this literally thousands of times. As an example, associates are typically trained and expected by management to greet the entering customer. Too often, this requirement gets translated by employees into saying “hi.” From a courtesy standpoint, this may sound better than no acknowledgment at all, though we’ve yet to see a higher buy or conversion rate when comparing customers who get a “hi” to those who enter with the absence of any greeting. Not surprisingly, most customers don’t even acknowledge this greeting and walk right beyond the associate saying it—not even saying “hi” back. That’s a big bowl of nothing for a key component of a customer engagement initiative.

“Doing okay over here?” is another low-percentage expression, a perfect invitation for the customer to say yes, fine, just looking.

Once we diagnose how interactions like this are working or aren’t with video and audio behavioral analytics, we provide retailers with the approach to make contacts count more—not in a theoretical, one-off way, but with a selling model that can be scaled.

Today’s Wall Street Journal has an interesting article on how retailers are pushing enhanced sales tactics to drive top-line growth. The realization to bring about more sophisticated training is sinking in, which comes from the realization these chains have a way to go before they can gain more traction on the sales floor.

Home Depot is doing something simple and smart by training cashiers (sometimes the only store personnel who shoppers interact with) to ask customers if they found everything they were looking for—and if not, to call the aisle to determine whether the item is in stock (the secret to success will be if the cashier has better luck finding someone than the customer perhaps did—but the idea of the cashier backstopping the sales process is a good one). While “did you find everything you need?” runs the risk of becoming a new verbal tic at Home Depot, it certainly has a fighting chance of success because the inquiry is offered at an important moment of truth, and requires a specific action step for the cashier to take should the customer be wanting.

Retail guilt trip

If you’ve gone to Safeway recently, or Brooks Brothers, or CVS, or any number of other retailers, you’ve been hit up for donations at the cash register. In an article on this retail arm-twisting, The Wall Street Journal’s Eric Felten wisely observes, if he does not donate, “there's the reflexive twinge of shame. Are these the emotions businesses want to produce in their customers?” According to Felten, he talked to a number of retailers and was “assured time and again that customers like being solicited for donations and that no one ever complains about being asked to give.”

Really?

Isn’t there a chance that making customers uncomfortable could send customers running to shop online instead? Retailers are taking a pretty big gamble by not rigorously studying the effects of their charitable efforts on shoppers at the moment of truth.

There’s no doubt these efforts successfully raise funds, and hence provide a tangible benefit. They’re certainly well intentioned. Still, isn’t it a little creepy and invasive? Stores are essentially saying we just saved you some money (maybe as a way of getting you in here to shop in the first place), and now we’re going to ask you to give (and give it) back. Also, as customer, am I going to be a little suspicious of the money actually getting to the right place? Do I know if the retailer is going to deduct some kind of administrative fee for handling the transaction? Or perhaps pocket a healthy tax deduction for their customers’ contributions?

If stores want to encourage customers to give back, why not offer customers the opportunity to contribute without the hard sell? What would happen if a store said we saved you some money today—here’s an envelope (or a number to text), and we’d like to encourage you to send it to St. Jude’s Hospital—or wherever?

Spend this holiday season with Hilbert’s Paradox of the Grand Hotel (and other tales of the precious customer)

19th century German mathematician David Hilbert described the concept of infinity this way: first, you must picture a hotel so vast, so overwhelming that it has an infinite number of guest rooms. This hotel is not only large, it is also full, with every guest room occupied. One evening, a sojourner enters the lobby, seeking a room in this hotel with absolutely no vacancy. Despite being sold out, the traveler gets a room, since the hotel is not limited by any finite number of accommodations. So the guest in room 1 is moved to room 2, the guest in room 2 is moved to room 3, and so forth, ad infinitum. The newcomer is put into room 1. The hotel can repeat this procedure any number of times whenever new clients happen to show up.

Would that this were so for retailers—a steady line of customers snaking out the door, waiting to come in, every section packed, every aisle occupied, a hub of activity 24/7/365, one shopper after another after another with no end in sight.

While this isn’t real, we’ve often observed sales associates who believe that customers are an endless resource. Like it’s no big deal if they don’t sell customer 1, because a customer 2 will be right behind. There’s always one more and one more after that. Take this incident at Best Buy, in which an employee told a customer, without checking, that a hard drive was out of stock. When he ordered the same item online for in-store pickup, less than an hour later, it was miraculously available. Or this customer service fiasco at Men’s Wearhouse, in which a saleswoman insulted a customer with lines like “I don’t know why you’re here,” and “I can’t help you now.” Even in the best of times, it’s foolish not to treat every single customer as if they are critical to the success of the store—because they are. And to do otherwise in this economy, it’s deadly. If enough customers are lured away, whether it’s by lower prices or better service, stores that treat customers as expendable will find themselves on the road to oblivion.

The Crowds of Black Friday

2009 has been another rough year for the retail sector, as it continues to be battered by rising unemployment, pessimistic consumers, and newly thrifty shoppers. As Black Friday, the traditional start of the holiday shopping season approaches, retail observers are placing their bets. Will customers continue to sit on their wallets, refusing to budge until they see massive discounts? Or will they capitulate in a Christmas shopping frenzy as retailers try to hold the line on prices?

One thing is certain: come Friday, stores will be mobbed as about a quarter of American households shake off their tryptophan-induced stupor and hit the stores (latest one-upsmanship schtick: Old Navy stores will open at 3 a.m., maybe because you can never know the extent of the pent-up demand for cargo pants at that hour of the morning). Last year, Black Friday was marred by a tragic death when a Wal-Mart worker was trampled by an out-of-control bargain-seeking horde. This year, writes the New York Times, stores are taking steps to better manage crowds. The Times reports that Wal-Mart is taking a page from experts who manage throngs at major events like the Super Bowl and the Olympics to prevent crowding. There’s a poetic irony in the fact that as consumers are purportedly pinching pennies, they literally can’t storm the stores fast enough.

Time reports that this year, retailers and shoppers are engaged in a game of chicken as shoppers wait for discounts and retailers try to dig in their heels. But do you think this game of double-dare is the new normal? From now on, might the contest go something like this:

Phase 1: people sit at home on their hands, stubbornly refusing to consume.
Phase 2: retailers put deals and discounts lower and lower and until they finally hit the "magic” percentage off number;
Phase 3: floodgates open; aisles full; cash registers sing; everybody happy; life is good.
Phase 4: retailers quickly repeal the dramatic offers because—oops—they’re too costly.
Phase 5: consumers go back to being unhappy—give retailers the cold shoulder and sit at home, waiting them out until the next time.
Phase 6: see Phase 2.

Reports of Sears’ death slightly exaggerated (for now)

Not many people are seeing the softer side of Sears these days, or the harder side for that matter. Tech Ticker reports that Jeff Matthews of hedge fund RAM Partners says the much anticipated Sears turnaround story may never happen because Sears Holding Corp. Chairman Edward Lampert doesn’t know how to run retail. Barron’s recently ran a story pointing out Sears’ many problems -- sagging sales, shabby stores, inattentive service, uncompetitive pricing – and suggesting the company’s stock price could fall another 50%. Beyond frightening. Credit Suisse analyst Gary Balter wrote an earnings note titled, “Put A Fork In It.”

Are the naysayers right? Is Sears done?

Sears has certainly gotten close to the max in cutting costs – there have been reports of only one sales associate per floor. In a world with where national big box stores provide competitively priced appliances on the one hand, and local dealers lavish personal attention and customer service on the other, Sears needs to be competitive on some dimension to survive, since there’s no net over the abyss of the middle.

Sears could focus on a smart reinvention its stores. The company still has some fabulously reputable brands, like Kenmore, DieHard, Craftsman, and Land’s End. Sears has actually made a number of good decisions lately – a plan to start selling toys and to offer a Christmas Club card, where consumers add value beforehand and get a 3% bonus on the funds. This has some old-fashioned, Big Book Catalog-style appeal. On the 21st century front, Sears’ MyGofer experiment, which merges online shopping and the ability to pick items up at a brick and mortar location, might allow Sears to unlock some value of all those Sears and Kmart stores. (But note to Sears: if you’re going to position yourself as a serious Internet player, make sure pranksters can’t rewrite your content and punk the living daylights out of you.)

It’s always hard to see around corners, but it’s an interesting question to ponder: what would a successful Sears look like in five years?

Gilly Hicks – We’re Not Sold

When it comes to Gilly Hicks, the lifestyle lingerie emporium aimed at teens and the newest brand in the Abercrombie stable, there’s one thing we can all agree on: the store itself is beautiful, luxurious, and sexy. The look of the space has won raves from fashion bloggers and stock analysts alike. The branding is brilliant, although entirely fictional: Abercrombie CEO Mike Jeffries concocted an elaborate Australian back story for the entirely American underwear brand (who knew “down under” had other meanings?) A portrait of “Gilly” hangs in the stores, to add a faux vintage feel to the shop. Gilly Hicks hopes to be younger and hipper than, but just as successful as, Victoria’s Secret.

The opening of Gilly Hicks has been controversial. Although Citigroup analyst Kimberly C. Greenberger praised the store’s “cute and sweetly sexy” image and said, “We believe Gilly Hicks could be a more wholesome alternative (to Victoria's Secret), and mothers would not mind taking their 15-year-olds to Gilly Hicks to shop,” an assortment of critics have attacked the whole notion of trying to sell sex to teens. Everything from the store’s racy ad campaign, featuring 7-foot-tall posters of naked men, to the website, which broadcasts a video showing women swimming topless, and the effort to sell sexy lingerie to teens has drawn complaints.

But the ultimate question, indeed, the only question is, will it sell? Gilly Hicks represents a huge per store investment, from the home-like front porch exterior to the dimly lit Ralph Lauren-on-steroids interior, with a huge amount of square footage dedicated to selling a tiny passel of products that would fit comfortably inside the closet of a New York City studio apartment. On the one hand, other companies have made big profits using edgy, sexy ads to sell to the teenage set. The other companies in Abercrombie’s stable, Abercrombie & Fitch, abercrombie, and Hollister, have deftly won over their target markets. Unfortunately for Abercrombie, we think it’s highly doubtful that Gilly Hicks is going to help the company bust out of a recession-fueled slump, despite the store’s gorgeous environment. Luxury undergarments for teens are not a natural sell in the best of times, and right now, the retailers that are thriving are mostly value brands aimed at the prudent. Add in the store’s sales crew – the young-side-of-20-something associates look as great as the store, but are without the years of experience in fitting bras and selling intimate wear – and it seems like an even bigger, and more expensive, misstep. What do you think?

Drop a quarter in the jar if you like this post

Maybe I wasn’t in an especially charitable mood, but I thought I had seen it all when I recently spotted a styrofoam cup duct taped to the delivery window of a Dunkin’ Donuts, a sight which gave off the weird vibe that drive-through customers should offer a reward to a forearm for handing them a bag.

There are a few topics that are guaranteed to generate heated arguments on the internet. Is it rude ask people to take their shoes off in your house? Is it tacky to have a cash bar at your wedding? And today’s subject, should behind-the-counter employees solicit tips in a jar next to the register? Anywhere you see counter service, you’re likely to see a jar or cup filled with dollar bills and coins. Cold Stone Creamery has raised the tip jar to an art form – workers break out into loud goofy songs when you drop a bill into the jar. Even teachers have gotten in on the act – one instructor conducted an informal experiment by setting a tip jar on his desk, and found that a few of his students threw in some (promptly refunded) change. Nowhere is the tip jar more ubiquitous than the coffee shop, whether it’s the indie rock dive around the corner or corporate behemoth Starbucks. There’s a certain logic behind the coffee shop tip jar; after all, say baristas, bartenders get tips, and making a latte is at least as complicated as pouring a draft beer.

Tip jars have their supporters. Counter service employees are delighted to get a few extra dollars for their efforts. Store owners and managers are happy to have their employees rewarded without having to raise prices or wages. And some customers don’t mind the jars, or even find some of the more creative hand written signs amusing. But other customers are angered by the creeping spread of tip jars. According to internet tipping guru James G. Lewis, “most people hate” the jars, and “tip jars are out of place at any food-service establishment that does not actually bring the food to your table and keep your drinks refilled.” According to a study by the Emily Post Institute, only 30% of respondents feel obligated to deposit money in a tip jar.

There’s been plenty of research on tipping – we know that younger people tip more than older Americans, people in the Northeast tip more than Southerners, and that people tip more when it’s sunnier outside. But the tip jar is a bit of a black hole. We have some anecdotal observations -- according to business psychologist Larina Kase, “Patrons can feel uncomfortable when there is a tip jar for services they feel do not deserve a tip.” But does the tip jar’s potential customer discomfort outweigh the morale boost for employees? It may be time for a well-designed study on tip jars that could determine whether they help or hurt the top and bottom line.

Judge a book by its cover at your own peril

One hundred and ten years after its 1818 founding in New York City, venerable retailer Brooks Brothers opened its second store, in Boston, on that city’s famed Newbury Street. A cautionary tale for the ages happened one morning when a man entered the store in tattered clothing, wearing rubber boots, and smelling a bit rank. The “up” salesman would not wait on him (the associate whose turn it was to help the next customer). The other salesmen looked away, busying themselves with anything else to avoid the unwelcome stranger. When the man finally asked for help from anyone within earshot, he was pawned off on the most junior salesman, who had no choice but to offer some assistance. Then, in the next two hours, the stranger ordered up $10,000 in custom-made suits, shoes and furnishings. (As you might guess, the “up” man tried to claim the sale as his own, to no avail). When the young salesman began asking the stranger about himself, he learned the man just arrived in town from his home in Vermont, where he was the owner of a highly successful hog farming business.

Fast–forward to the reverse situation. What happens when customers are the ones judging salespeople? According to a recent article in the New York Times, a new study found that people give higher customer satisfaction ratings to white male employees than to women and members of minorities, even when their performance is the same. In one test, about 12,000 patients in an HMO rated their doctors. The number of follow-up email messages doctors sent to patients increased their patient ratings only when the doctor was a white man. In another experiment, students watched videotaped interactions between a bookshop sales clerk and customers, and were asked to rate the customer service. Three actors played the part of the sales clerk—a white male, a black male, and a white female. All used the same settings and scripts. The subjects shown the white male clerk rated the bookshop’s service 19% higher than subjects who viewed the other two actors. Even women and people of color gave white males higher marks. Since over 60 percent of employees have at least some of their pay linked to customer satisfaction results, these biases are not just socially undesirable, they hit female and minority employees squarely in the pocketbook.

According to David R. Hekman, the lead author of the study and professor at the University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, “Someone needs to call customers out on their biases.” Hopefully, if people are made aware of their subconscious biases through coverage of studies like these, they will be less likely to penalize female and minority employees on satisfaction surveys. Another possibility would be to create employee evaluation tools that are truly objective. Techniques such as video analytics can deliver a bias-free analysis of the customer experience. Any other ideas on how we can eradicate the hidden biases that occur when shoppers evaluate employees (or vice versa)?

Hyatt’s random walk down service street

Last month, Hyatt Hotels’ C.E.O., Mark Holamazian, announced that Hyatt Hotel employees will be performing “random acts of generosity” for some customers, such as comping a bar tab or waiving charges for a family breakfast. Bloggers have noted that conducting a publicity campaign around gestures hardly seems random, and runs the risk of angering those who don’t receive the largesse.

Rob Walker’s Consumed column in this week’s New York Times Sunday Magazine points out that the Hyatt campaign is an effort to leave the customer grateful. Walker cites a coming paper in the Journal of Marketing which argues that a customer who is made to feel grateful is likely to become “enduringly loyal.” Humans enjoy reciprocating out of gratitude, and we feel guilty when we don’t, which is a phenomenon that businesses can exploit. But, as Walker writes, in order to inspire gratitude, favors must be performed “as a function of free will,” not merely in service of company rules. Loyalty programs sponsored by hotels and airlines do not automatically inspire gratitude; instead, frequent customers feel entitled to the free flights and hotel nights, and strategize to gain the most generous rewards for the points they’ve earned.

It’s not wrong for Hyatt to be ramping up customer service, especially now. Service has always driven loyalty, especially when customers are giving more thought to how they spend each dollar. One recent study found that nearly half of all customers feel service has declined since the recession started, and more than that said they’ve recently cut ties with a company due to a service lapse. It’s no coincidence that Nordstrom, with its legendary customer service, has recently trounced competitors such as Macy’s and Saks in terms of sales and stock performance. But we question whether Hyatt’s scattershot, random approach is the best way to go. Hyatt, and other businesses, might be better off building a reputation for top-notch customer service available consistently to all customers. What happens to customers who – having read about the plan – expect but then don’t receive any random generosity? And what about those who receive it a first time but may not “randomly” ever get it again? What happens to their loyalty? What do you think?

Saturday morning at the hardware store

I walk in and a clerk approaches to ask if I need help. I tell him I need a flashlight, just something basic. He walks me to the appropriate spot in the aisle, and begins describing the selection.

“We’ve got your Eveready. $3.95. Not the greatest, but does the job,” he says, starting at his lowest price point. “Then there’s this Energizer. Better grip. $6.99. Or we’ve got a Sylvania. Good for the garage. It’s $12.99.”

He takes a step to the right, moving toward something else, as if he’s signaling that we’re about to enter a special new universe.

“Of course,” he tells me with a knowing look, “you could get this.” He begins hefting a powerful looking cylinder of silvery black metal and then starts thwacking it slightly menacingly on the palm of his other hand.

“This,” he pronounces, “this is the one the cops carry.”

Of course, he had me at the product demo, but the law enforcement piece put me all in. I buy two of them……at $49.99—each.

There are a number of lessons here, not the least of which is the incalculable sales value of story in the store. This was a pitch-perfect bravura performance, and in case you’re thinking today’s workforce isn’t trainable in this skill, you need to know that this associate was not some old-timer hardware store guy—but a 20-something “kid.”

Success beyond accidents of the marketplace

Ron writes: It might be easy to dismiss McDonald’s strong sales performance as nothing more than the result of a heightened consumer desire for inexpensive food during tough economic times. But having worked with the company for more than a dozen years on a number of advanced analytic projects covering operations, marketing and HR, I know this is only one of a host of even more salient factors contributing to the very positive numbers coming out of McDonald’s. A recent story in the New York Times explains how the company has won over skeptical customers with its thorough, nearly obsessive effort to get things right. Here are a few of the key ingredients that have contributed to McDonald’s supersized success, even as the economy and the rest of the restaurant industry have struggled.

A clear, customer-focused goal: McDonald’s has single-mindedly united its people behind “Plan to Win,” an internal playbook that encourages employees to “focus on quality, service and restaurant experience rather than simply providing the cheapest, most convenient option to customers.”

Adjustments based on brutal facts: McDonald’s discovered that customers were becoming more interested in dining early or late, so stores were opened earlier and stayed open later. Executives “pored over data to determine what consumers were eating and drinking and where McDonald’s could expand to capitalize on changing trends.” McDonald’s transformed beverages from an afterthought to a central offering, resulting in higher sales and plaudits for its coffee quality.

Grounded, open leadership: McDonald’s selects leaders who have restaurant experience, not merely academic credentials. Jim Skinner, McDonald’s CEO, never graduated from college but rose steadily through McDonald’s ranks. He’s comfortable mingling with everyone from coworkers to restaurant staff. According to John W. Rogers Jr., a McDonald’s board member, Skinner has “created an environment where these guys have been allowed to shine.”

Patience: Some changes at McDonald’s took time to implement, such as rebuilding restaurants, improving employee training, and reconfiguring the drive-through. Luring skeptical customers back to the restaurant took years, not months. As McDonald’s president, Ralph Alvarez says, “The lesson there is, be patient.”

Who may I say is calling?

Bill writes: When the volume of rings got completely out of hand, I joined those already on the roster of the do-not-call list. It has helped some. But I still get plenty, with caller ID displaying the name of the company, charity, political organization, call center or the mildly intriguing “unknown caller.” I don’t keep a log next to the phone to make sure this is an outfit I’ve recently done business with, and like most everyone else, simply assume the caller is inside the boundary line of legal—however barely.

But I take these calls every time. I’m in the customer experience business and want to hear the script. Most are delivered in that breathless way, a non-stop recitation of the “premise.” Once it’s established they’ve got the right person, there’s no pause—or what could be my one opportunity to get a word in edgewise—like “goodbye.”

These scripts have been tested over time, so the companies know what “works” and what doesn’t “work.” Still, it’s hard to get motivated when the delivery has that rote and robotic thing going on.
It was notable during last year’s political season that the Obama calls, highly scripted to be sure, still seemed…..earnest. And, in a good way, they had an amateurish feeling—however studied they may have been behind the scenes to make sure a dialogue was started and a human interest in the caller seeded.

Maybe there’s a different way for telemarketers to evaluate their outbound call scripts. Instead of using the blunt instrument of compliance—the rote adherence measurement to a set of words by the solicitor—companies should hunt for those associates with lousy compliance scores and high conversions. Perhaps they hold the secret to a new non-scripted “script.” Like the Obama boiler room gang, who raised almost $800 million over the phone.

Keeping the customer

Bill writes: I can’t remember where I heard it first, but an expression I’ve always liked --- it’s used to describe how fast calamity can come – is the one about someone who just “pulls a single thread and the whole sleeve falls off.”

Cut to me at Whole Foods on a recent shopping sojourn. I had a grocery list of more than 50 items, one of which was watercress, that tangy leaf vegetable with the slightly bitter peppery taste that doesn’t have many uses beyond being filler for ladies’ tea sandwiches. With produce as the first department along the perimeter from the store’s entry, it was my first stop. After several futile minutes attempting to find the item, I asked for help. The clerk couldn’t find the watercress either. He went to the back room and looked. Nothing. Sorry, sir. I looked at the rest of my long list and my completely empty cart, and weighed my options. I could continue shopping and then go to a second store for just the watercress, or bail now and get everything done together at a single (other) store. I chose the latter, and with that decision, Whole Foods was out more than $225--what I ended up spending at the competitor.

What the Whole Foods produce guy might have asked is what I needed watercress for. Had he done so, he would have found out that it was to act as nothing more than a garnish for a plate of Super Bowl deviled eggs, a green bed on which to splay and display these old school treats. Then he would have been able to suggest Italian parsley or arugula as worthy substitutes, and I would have stayed at the store.

Is this asking too much of employees? Maybe, but I’m not so sure. Taking an interest in the customer has to go beyond “we’re out of it” or “it’s over there.” Finding out a “why” beyond a “what” is always a reasonable goal.

Retail charm offensive

Bill writes: In his early stand-up days, Jay Leno used to tell the story of the frustrations of being in line at the supermarket. He waits. And waits. And waits some more. Then it’s his turn, and the checker doesn’t even look up to say hello. She’s got her head down in scanning mode. When it’s time to pay, he – thinking he’s a valued customer at a store where he’s just forked over more than $200 – still doesn’t receive an acknowledgment. Not able to contain his frustration, he says to the checker that a simple thank you would be nice. “Why should I?” she says, scoffing, “it says it right here on the receipt.”

Over the years, I’ve seen plenty of cluelessness and rudeness in stores—maybe not quite as bad as the Leno story. I once asked a clerk to help me locate an item that was obviously not in the aisle where I sought his help—he just happened to be the only person anywhere in the store I could find. He stood very still, pivoted his head around to be able to see everything within a three-foot radius of his body, and then proudly proclaimed the item was not there. I suppose it’s not so different from being in a restaurant and asking a passing waitperson for a spoon, only to be told this isn’t their station.

Times are different. There’s a charm offensive going on everywhere. Store traffic is thin—and precious. I get a greeting like royalty as soon as I walk in almost anywhere—even big box stores, where sucking up to customers has never been part of the operational orthodoxy. Employees are now dropping what they’re doing to help and lead and show and answer—and thank. It’s all rather nice, although sometimes a bit desperate—and annoying. I was at Walgreens the other day, needing “navigational remediation” as we sometimes call it in the shopper analytics business. I was taken to the item I sought, and then given a “helpful” two-minute discourse on all the reasons why another brand would be better than my selection.

Oh well. It was better than being taken for granted.