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| At my first retail job. I stayed up there for 55 days |
Boxing
Despite my modest haul (ha ha, if I can even call it that), I visited many merchants on my quest for holiday deals. My experiences undoubtedly varied from store to store, although none were significantly positive or negative... and that's because I try to avoid salespeople all together.
What does customer service mean to you?
I was asked this question, or some variation of it, every time I interviewed for retail sales positions and I always gave this answer: "Help customers find what they need or want." Of course I would elaborate, but this statement was simple and to the point because, in my opinion, that is the fundamental purpose of customer service.
As a salesperson
Full disclosure, my retail sales experience is thin but I survived working two Black Fridays and two Boxing Days. My first retail employer was a British high-street retailer where I worked for 10 months before moving on to a 6-month stint at a certain department store which boasts legendary customer service and a Kool-Aid-drinking culture. I left after realising retail sales (or sales in general) was clearly not my forte, to say the least. I was an awfully terrible salesperson but had a knack for, and the pleasure of, helping customers. My managers agreed (on both points) and thought I would be an excellent fit for Service Experience, which was all about offering customers the best experience. I was offered a position but decided to go elsewhere. In retrospect, I think I would have been a good fit.
Nonetheless, during my short retail career I had so much fun helping customers. I swore fealty to anyone I assisted, arguably to a fault. I was an underachieving sales associate because I didn't let numbers misdirect my focus on the importance of the customer's needs and not to try and convince them to buy something they don't necessarily need. Yes, they could always return unwanted items, but at their inconvenience. I did not want seller's remorse. After a while I noticed—when customers asked for my opinion—I was actively trying to convince them against purchasing something because I felt it was in their best interest not to. Unsurprisingly, my managers were frustratingly puzzled when I told them despite having made a sizable sale.
Anecdote time!
One of the best customer experiences I offered was to a British couple on vacation. They had just landed in the morning and decided to go shopping, as they happily mentioned, in large part due to the favourable exchange rate. The gentleman was looking for a parka to wear during cold UK winters and settled on two choices: a special edition all-black Canada Goose Chateau (if I remember correctly) and a drab grey Woolrich Teton Explorer. They were around the same price. We chatted for a good 30 minutes while he tried on each one multiple times and discussing with his wife. He asked about other retailers that sold the items in question, so I named our two largest competitors who I know sold at least one of them (but would not have the special edition Canada Goose), and who are within walking distance inside the shopping centre. I happily gave them directions and off they went. In the mid-afternoon nearing the end of my shift, a colleague of mine informed me they came back and asked for me while I was with another customer, who was in the fitting room, so I ran to them to let him know I'll be a few minutes. Little did I know, that few minutes ended up being 15, but they waited patiently. We chatted for another 20 minutes or so and he asked me what I thought. I told him I favoured Canada Goose, for many reasons (go Made in Canada!), but ultimately the decision was his. Then he asked me if he should get both. Uh oh. My automatic response was a resounding No! I questioned why he needed two, deferred opinion to his wife, except for a few details they were practically the same, whether or not he could pack it all in his luggage—I reasoned as much as I could to dissuade him from purchasing both. I was curious, however, and asked him why he didn't buy them at our competitors. He said simply, "Well, because of you." He ended up taking both parkas, and I got them complimentary seating at our restaurant.
Another one of my finest moments came from selling a single pair of socks. It was easily one of my favourite and most fun retail experiences. A lovely girl asked me where the socks were located so we walked down to where they were. On the way I ask her about the socks and find out they were for a guy she just started seeing. They had been on two dates and she noticed he liked to wear lively socks, so for their third date she wanted to give him a pair of socks for his birthday. We didn't know where to begin. There were as many socks as there were colours and patterns. Time to play 20 questions! Thick or thin; dress or casual; how he dressed on their two dates; his profession; his personality and demeanour, and whatever else she found out from him—she even brought up his Instagram and Facebook photos. We decided that she choose the socks she liked, and I do the same, then laid down about 15 pairs and started eliminating. I made sure to only disqualify from my selections, while encouraging her to knock out whatever she no longer fancied. Down to two pairs—one her's, and one mine—I suggested her pair was the best choice. She agreed: it was a $30 pair of from Paul Smith. Multi-coloured and multi-striped; not too bright, definitely noticeable but not whimsically so. I carefully wrapped it with tissue in a box, slipped on a ribbon, tied a bow, and provided a little card for her to write on—didn't see a happier face that day.
The way I see customer service, at least in the world of retail, is that sales and other KPIs prevail over taking care of the customer, which is the means to a financial end, especially when commission is involved. As a salesperson, I was more concerned about getting to know the customers and serving their needs, hoping to eventually but never building a solid client base, and less about the high numbers. This mindset made it hard for me to cross-sell, and I rarely hit my sales goals. The daily, weekly, and monthly quotas hounded me. I was simply not cut out to sell. Nearing the end of my time at this certain department store I was basically handing out my customers and sales to my colleagues, who cared more for the commission. I thoroughly enjoyed and was good at every other aspect of the job, I just couldn't for the life of me bring myself to close those big sales. My focus will always be on the customer.
As a customer
I poignantly mentioned above, and in my last post, I am not a fan of receiving customer service when I shop and I am just the worse kind of customer. I would hate to receive the kind of service I provided when I was in sales—I would avoid me. I wear headphones partly because I don't want anyone approaching me, and avoid eye contact unless I see someone mutter something in my general direction. When I pick out items to try, I would rather painfully hold onto a dozen hangers than hand it to a salesperson to start a fitting room, and when I'm done using the fitting room I hang back every item so I don't have to give it to the fitting room associate. When someone does successfully engage me I thank them the moment they stop speaking, smile, and nod. The product is my focus, not chatty salespeople! This is not to say my situation is unique. I would think most introverts, or anyone "just browsing" may feel the same way, though not necessarily exercise the extent to avoid service that I have.
So when I went Boxing Day shopping, I was hoping for utter chaos (and it was) and, therefore, sales associates would be too busy to tend to every single customer (and they were). That said, a few salespeople made the effort to do the minimal acknowledgement, which is more than I could ask for, or want for that matter. My Jekyll-and-Hyde view on customer service perhaps hinders my suitability to speak on the matter. Hell, I thought it was at odds with myself while typing, but reasoned it would be interesting to lay it out because I've never needed to have the full service experience that I've tried to deliver, or that other customers demand at times because... well, I'm shopping, so leave me alone!
I focus on retail but customer service is a permanent fixture of many other industries, at which point it becomes service to the people and the discussion broadens, as does my aptitude for social interaction as a "customer". My organisational behaviour professor in college issued a challenge on the first day of class: if any student can name one profession that does not require interaction with another human being, they will be awarded an 'A' and will not have to attend class for the remainder of the semester. Quite a challenge, no? I had a dumb guess, though I've forgotten what it was—it had something to do with forest fire warnings and the like... Anyhow, my professor said no one has ever named a profession because, quite frankly, it does not exist. Abstractly speaking, we are always communicating with someone. So in effect we are simply establishing basic social connections with one another. That's all customer service is anyway but with the added mutual desire to achieve a requested outcome.
So if customer service is helping customers find what they need or want, then how does one go about serving it? Happily and with pleasure. You'd have to love it, even if you hate receiving it.
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