PETER BUFFA -- Comments & Curiosities

What makes a business blossom? What makes a store succeed? What makes

a muskrat protect his musk? Forget that last one.

Service -- that’s what! Over the years, I have ranted, carried on

and/or whined more than once about the dearth of service in this complex

world of ours. But I have noticed of late, right here in the Land of

Newport-Mesa, an encouraging, albeit subtle, change in the way some of

our local purveyors purvey their goods and supply their services.

No doubt, the giant, mega-jumbo, discount warehouses will continue to

thrive. In most cases, savings trump service. There’s no denying it. But

there are those times when you’d love to have an actual living,

breathing, human-type person find exactly the size you’re looking for,

carefully lift it from a display case, hand it to you with a genuine

smile and say, “There you are. My pleasure. Anything else I can help you

with?”

Just the other day, I had an experience much more typical by today’s

standards, at a local establishment that shall remain nameless in a city

that needn’t be identified by name.

There I was, inspecting the produce in the department wherein one

finds the produce, which is probably why they call it that. To be

specific, I was in search of cherries. I love cherries, crazy about them.

Got to have them. That particular store just happens to offer the best

bing cherries one can find in our little corner of the Milky Way, at a

very attractive price.

Problem is, the peak season for bing cherries is about 6 1/2 hours

long. So, each year, I try to be prepared in every way for that fleeting

moment of cerise perfection.

I approached a produce man who was walking past me with a box of

produce-type things and said, with a smile, “Excuse me. When do you think

your bing cherries will be here?”

“I have no idea,” he said, without missing a beat, and continued

walking.

I was frozen in place for an instant, then began my pursuit, darting

between the artichokes and bananas to catch up with him. What happened

next wasn’t pretty, nor is it essential to this discussion. But you get

the point.

Treating a customer in a way that would have been unthinkable in times

past is thoroughly common practice today. Why do so many businesses not

get this? I don’t get it. Get it? “I don’t get that they don’t get it.”

It’s like a joke. No, seriously, for those who can remember back that

far, why did Nordstrom burst on the local scene like a supernova and

change the face of the industry nationwide, just as they’d done in

Seattle? Three words. Service, service and service. But let’s get back to

where we started.

Lately, I see signs of promise, glimmers of hope. In the supermarket

that I patronize but needn’t name, an interesting change took place

sometime within the last year. Whether you have a shopping cart bursting

at the seams, or a roll of Tums, the bagger will ask, “Would you like

help out with that?”

They are downright religious about it. Big load, little load, old

person, young person. Doesn’t matter. They’re asking, and there is no

stopping them.

“Would you like help out with that?” Obviously, someone has told them

that their jobs, if not lives, depend on asking each and every customer

the same question. At first, I was a little surprised, if not amused, by

someone asking “Would you like help out with that?” when “that” was two

tomatoes and an onion. But then, I thought, this is pretty clever. They

are offering a little extra service, which everyone appreciates, but

virtually everyone will decline. Net benefit? Substantial. Net cost?

Zero.

In the same unnamed store, I turned a corner and came across a young

employee who said hello and asked if I needed help finding anything. I

declined, but thanked her for the offer. I must have looked dazed and

confused, I thought, straightening up and trying to project more

confidence with my walking and cart handling. But as I walked away, I

heard her give exactly the same greeting and ask exactly the same

question of another customer.

Aha, I thought, still trying to look determined, obviously she has

been told to stand in that spot and ask everyone who comes by if she can

be of any help. Again, large benefit, small cost.

My most recent experience was with a major home improvement store

whose name you’d recognize immediately if I told you. For years, lots of

stores have offered to assemble the great unassembled masses of products

for you -- barbecues, bicycles, shelf units, etc. -- for a fee. But here

was a young man who had his own little assembly station set up with a

full array of tools and a workbench and a sign that said “Free Assembly

here.”

This is almost as clever as asking large, overweight, former mayors

with one tomato if they’d like some help out with that, I thought. I

can’t imagine that a lot of people are going to drag their brand new

whatever out of the box and wait patiently while this guy assembles it on

the spot. But, as is the case with gifts and nuclear warheads, it’s the

thought that counts.

Could it be that we are seeing a concerted effort to return to the

days of genuine, nothing-else-matters, customer service. Am I imagining

this or not? You tell me. And, oh, before I forget . . . call your

mother. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays.

He may be reached via e-mail at [email protected].