This little missive is about when a corporation presenting itself as your little ol' neighborhood store really has to lighten up a little and absorb their own marketing.
I've worked in customer service for years. I know bad, good, and great service when I see it. Really we all do, but people like me have actually been trained to understand the nuances of.
Trader Joes, in general, has admirable service. So good I'm willing to drive out of my way to get to one of them.
The typical store has many employees working hard to keep everything stocked and moving. These workers are easy to find because the stores are a quarter of the size of a typical supermarket. Most of these workers are friendly nice people.
So what's my problem?
A few months back I noticed a lot of the friendly nice people were gone. Not just one or two but like about eight or so familiar faces. Most had been there for a while and a few had been there for years.
Since The Pool Man (<-- me) has as big a mouth in the real world as in the blogosphere, I asked someone what happened. Could there be a new store opening to explain all these new faces?
The person looked around nervously and quietly confided that many people were let go. Sure, some dead wood was thrown into the fire, but most were let go because new eager faces could be hired for cheaper.
Ho hum, you say? Another day in American retail, you say? I can't argue with you there, but I'm here to suggest an important difference. Where an Apple Store or a Gap or even a Staples hires, burns out, and fires people as a going concern, most shoppers do not go to those stores once or twice a week year after year. Markets are different in this way.
Trader Joes? Go to their website. You're greeted by a folksy little page that's intentionally dumbed down to look like your grandpa designed it. Scrolling beneath the company logo: your neighborhood grocery store.
Right. These silly little stores not only want to sell you bacon and eggs... but sell you that Trader Joes is a part of your neighborhood. Like a school or a church. You know, the good ol' daze? Many of their products are designed to feel like they came from a quaint country store in Vermont, or off a dusty road in wine country. Why there's even a gramophone on their homepage promoting a Trader Joes radio ad. What's a gramaphone, Modern Kid asks. And radio for that matter?
So for a few months I've lived with these nervous new faces. The thing is: they aren't as friendly as the old faces. It's like they've got guns to their heads. I can just hear their manager now, "We see you yucking it up with customers and you're gone. This is work, after all, not happy hour."
Friendly 'hood store on the surface, Fritz Lang labor conditions in reality.
On one visit I discovered one of the managers responsible for this tonal shift. The lines were growing by the registers, those 'charming' ol' country store bells started ringing (eyeroll), and a manager jumped out from the booth and opened a station to ring me and others through.
At first I was rather elated, but then the manager was ringing me up like he had a Howitzer to his skull. Clark Kent was going to show me why he's TJ's Bagger Of The Month. He rifled my dozen items into my recyclable bag before I had my credit card out. With sweat on his brow and a prideful grin.
That's when I decided his service wasn't so admirable.
Sure he quickly opened a register for me, but since when was leaving this Trader Joes like crossing the George Washington Bridge as a Democratic Mayor? It worked just fine when the old friendly faces were there. It used to be a far more pleasant experience. And the real problem with this Trader Joes is their parking lot with a baker's dozen of spaces -- something they refuse to fix.
The service I had just experienced wasn't service with a smile. Essentially it was a manager demonstrating to his staff how much faster they could all work if they could only be more like him. He was justifying management's gun against their temples by placing a nuke against his own. With that cheesy ass forced smile.
Trader Joes: take a chill pill. The people working in your stores? They're human beings. Treat them right. And treat me right -- by not breaking the sound barrier to warp me out the premises.
Safeway? That dinosaur of a supermarket chain? They get my business too. Yeah, their lines can run crazy long sometimes, but unlike most Trader Joes they have quick and easy parking, half the store knows me by name, and... wait for it...
... it's actually in my neighborhood.