How Can I Help You If You Can't Even Help Yourself?

Anyone working in a retail environment is subjected to the behest of customers. They ask for assistance, we provide. They complain, we apologize. They offer thanks, we shit ourselves in delight. There are, however, circumstances where we can provide no more, because to do so would be utterly absurd. If you've read this far, you should be made fully aware that this post is only concerned with two specific incidences that occurred at [my] bookstore in the past few days.

Instance #1: A customer approaches. The mood is tense. The ambient sound of keys clicking stops. Time to work. "Can I help you?" "Hi...yeah...I'd like to order a book. I don't know who the author is, and I think the title is something like [insert a random assortment of words]." [Pause]. You can hear a pin drop somewhere in the carpeted store. Internal monologue: "Um...what? How am I suppose to order you a book when you don't even know who the author -or- what the title is? Insert a moment of hope that you might be able to connect with the person's mind via Shining and ascertain what it is that the customer is looking for. You do a search on the computer, something the customer should have done before leaving home. No results. What now? "I'm sorry, but I don't seem to be finding any books that might be what you're looking for." "Okay, well thanks for trying...I guess I'll have to go home and look on the piece of paper I wrote it on." Internal (shout) monologue: "What?!?! You had it written down, and you didn't think to bring it with you? That's absurd." [You die a little inside]. The end.

Instance #2: There is a need. Customers are calling (not literally). One must respond to these calls in times of need. Who is to do it? The idler. A customer is asking about books on rafting. Simple. It's five feet away. "We have a water sports section right over here..." "I'm looking for more of a fictional rafting book". Okay. New goal set. Must find a novel centered around 'rafting'. [Drawing blank]. "Um...let me check and see if anything might come up under that...(searching...first hit comes back)...you could read 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' ". You both engage in an easy-going laugh. You're beginning to think this search is hopeless. Too broad. The customer needs to do its own research on this matter. "Well, can you go to 'amazon' and search the criteria there?" "I suppose so..." [37 seconds pass] There are now 377 titles to search through. The customer seems intent on checking each and everyone one of these entries; this includes reading synopses, editorial reviews, and prices. (Note: just because Amazon lists it, does not mean, in any way, that [we] have it.) Lunchtime was six minutes ago. The customer insists on using your computer to find what it wants. Inner monologue: "Why did you not do this at home? Oh, you don't have Internet? Have you heard of the library? We have one downstairs, in fact. Why are you depriving other customers of service? Why did I have to be the one to help you? You know what I haven't had in a while? Big League Chew. [You die a little inside]. The end. (And for lunch you had a cheeseburger and fries that was not at all worth the $9.80 you paid for it; and it gave you gas the rest of the day).

Like I said: how can I help you if you can't even help yourself? Think about it, take two of these, and call me in the morning.