Retail 101 (Part Three): Who's the customer?

Working in retail is perhaps one of the world’s crappiest jobs, and I should know. One of my first jobs while I was in college was to work in a women’s shoe store on New York’s Fifth Avenue. I’ll pause whilst everyone has their good laugh over the fact that — for an entire month — I was Al Bundy. One month was all I could withstand without putting the business end of a revolver in my mouth and playing Russian Roulette. I quickly learned two things about life:

I was determined that I’d never have that job permanently, and thankful I didn’t.
If the customer asks for a Size 7, and you know that the gunboats she’ll need are a Size 9, make them happy and stick the larger shoes in the smaller box. ”They’ll never know the difference.”

So when I criticize bad retailing, I have just enough experience to understand from whence I speak. Whoever created Al Bundy’s character on “Married with Children” knew the type of living Hell that retail can be. Now that I’ve placed that in perspective, I’ll make one clear statement:

It isn’t only the brain-dead that work in retail, though it too often seems that way.

Recall your last retail experience. More than likely, you stood at a counter and perhaps looked around for someone to be available to assist you, finding no one in the vicinity. Or perhaps you stood there and were made to wait while the sales help were carrying on a conversation that — to them — seemed ever so much more important than whatever business a customer might be transacting. How often has that happened?

If you’ve raised your hand, you aren’t alone. Almost two years ago, I compared two very similarly-classed department stores: Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman-Marcus. I’ll recap that experience now.

Both stores sold the same product, though I’d no knowledge at the time. While I stood at Neiman’s for an embarrassingly long time awaiting the assistance of sales personnel, I finally walked over to another counter where three women were standing in idle chatter, barely noticing my presence, and said the following: ”Does anyone work here, or are you paid for ignoring customers?” Thus was the beginning of a purchase there that occurred without much fan fare, with very few words, and ended with a certain air of smugness. Away we walked, wondering how certain retailers can tolerate such poor customer-focus in the midst of a recession.

We then walked into Saks Fifth Avenue, a short walk away in the same shopping mall. Service that evening was prompt, cheerful, helpful without being overbearing, and ready to assist. After seeing this, I decided that I’d rather be conducting business here than back at the particular Neiman-Marcus from where I’d just purchased my product. After being rung up, I decided to walk back to Neiman-Marcus where the same sales-people were huddled and chatting. This time, however, they were a little more prompt in noticing the customer.

“I’m returning what I’d just purchased, unopened,” I said.

“Was anything wrong?” the sales person asked.

“You mean aside from being completely ignored the first time around?” I replied. “Well, you’re probably lucky there isn’t a manager walking the floor because I would have had something to say about that. I purchased elsewhere, they seemed to appreciate my business more.” My sharp comment was greeted with an open jaw, and then a turn to credit my account and reverse the transaction. Not much was said afterwords, though I had fun with a few blog posts and keyword rankings on Google.

Who is the customer?

At the risk of sounding sarcastic, it really isn’t difficult to figure out who your customer is. Unless you have an IQ of 75 or lower — in which case, Macy’s is probably hiring — I’ve listed a couple of obvious queues from personal experience:

If someone is standing at a counter for more than 30 seconds, unattended, looking lost, he’s a customer. You’ve just ignored him.
If someone’s looking around the store — peering around corners, looking into the sky, stretching on toes to get a better view — they more than likely aren’t lost and looking for the Jonas Brothers concert. They’re a customer. Again, you’ve ignored them.
If there is no one in one area, but two or three people in another, there’s a superb chance that your customer is exactly in the one place you aren’t attending. Get there. Quickly.
The customer picking up various items and looking at something for more than 15 seconds, you’re quickly missing a potential sale because — you guessed it — there is a customer looking to buy.
You see a 5’1″ tall Asian woman. You’ve just figured that “Asian people never buy anywhere other than in Chinatown”. Not only are you a racist, but you’ve probably ignored one of the wealthier ethnic groups in this country. Oh, and my wife won’t be a big fan of yours while you help out the teenager who only has the low-limit debit card.

It doesn’t take a very clever eye to determine “who” the customer is. It doesn’t seem that way, however, because most stores take the wrong approach when confronted with a customer. I’ve classified it into a few categories:

“Oh my gosh! People! Run! Far away! Run!” The minute you walk into a store, that’s precisely the time when the sales help goes to parts unknown and is never found again. I’m pretty sure they wind up on milk cartons. They should begin replacing missing children with lost sales associates.
“We don’t want to come across too pushy, that’s not our style.” Ok, Abercrombie & Fitch, we believe you. That’s why people aren’t shopping with you, and also why you’re doing little else than looking aloof and folding shirts all day.
“People don’t like being confronted when they come to shop.” Nope, they just come in for the experience of a retail museum — they can look but not buy, and we’ll simply act as the museum curators.
“Ooh, a customer, let’s pounce and ask questions that will only put them off.” Especially if you give the hard sell the second you walk through the door and then keep talking to prove you love hearing your own voice. Yes, this is the experience you’ve come to expect when buying a major appliance or a new car.

Am I poking fun? Of course. Are all sales-people lousy? Please don’t make me answer that question. There’s too much of a lost art to getting to know the customer, finding out their motivations, and understanding what is going to make then become a loyal purchaser of the product. There is a reason that these people are called “sales-people”, and if they aren’t there to make a sale, there’s little reason for paying them. Too many people don’t get that message, and the result is that most retail experiences are little more than entering into a conversation between two people where the customer wanting to make a purchase is simply an annoyance.

The simple answer to “Who is the customer” is “Not the person to whom you’re most likely directing your attention and focus.” Someone walking in more than likely wants to be gently finessed into purchasing what you have to offer — it’s not hard-sell, it’s not shyness, it’s not being aloof. It’s also not a tough concept to grasp, but far too often missed.

A final note: There was once a rule that said “The customer is always right.” Ok, sometimes they really aren’t, but there’s a way of finessing that detail to still make them feel as if they’re not completely in the wrong and happy about the experience. Because at the end of the day, the customer is ultimately the person responsible for whether or not enough business is transacted for a business to remain viable.

In the next installment: How do we know who we are?