I had prepared myself with the standard isms and questions ‘How’s the family?’ ‘How are the kids?’. The goal was to be as personably impersonal as possible, get the new phone, and get to the comfy couch at my Mom’s house. That’s what I told myself.
I wanted to stop by the store earlier but just felt like that would have made things awkward.
The parking lot was quiet. This little town on the way to Mom’s place was struggling. It used to be a factory town. In the 1980’s and 90’s the factories left. The internet exploded in the early 2000’s. The new hip internet business model wasn’t quite ready for business yet and it slowly fell apart.
The town had barely started to recover from the collapse of the dot coms when the great housing crash hit. The big box stores had moved in and were slowly moving out smaller Mom & Pop shops leaving empty store fronts.
The people in town had few choices and many of them chose to leave.
Today was the day. Months of talking and planning were about to be replaced with a few minutes of doing. The rep at the phone/tablet/watch store had given me the lowdown on the phones I was looking at and how long they had been at this store. For some reason the color black wasn’t popular at this store so it wasn’t flying off the shelves like it was every where else.
I knew this was divine intervention. Everything happens for a reason. It would be a quick hello to Grocery Girl, make sure all was good, and then we would get down to business. Scratch the standard isms and the personal questions. Get your phone and go. Keep it sparse. Don’t poke the bear.
I pumped myself up at the door before I went into the store. Today’s mantra: Get your phone and go.
The phone/tablet/watch HQ was pristine and practical teeming with twenty somethings alert, attuned, and attentive.
This corporate cellular store had gray and navy carpet squares to offset the bold but dated wallpaper. The cases that held the accessories were basic plastic. The goal was to hold and display the product. The cases did their job.
“Be right with you, sir,” said the woman behind the counter. Her reading glasses were at the end of her nose.
“Thank you … Shelly,” I said as I got close enough to read her name tag.
When she was done we exchanged pleasantries and then got straight down to business. I had narrowed it down to the upgrade of my current phone or last years latest, but not greatest, phone.
I was also looking out for Grocery Girl while trying not to look out for her at the same time. Get your phone and go.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look at this years new model?” She asked.
“I’m just not a huge fan. It seems like all the updates and new camera kind of kill the battery life.” I had been doing research and just hadn’t been impressed.
“I am torn between the two. I like the update of my old phone. Last year’s phone has great battery life even with a bigger screen BUT it’s $150 more.”
“You’ve done your research. And you are right. The phone is sort of $150.00 more.”
“Sort of?” I leaned in. She had my attention.
“How long have you been a customer?” She walked back to the counter.
“20 years.”
“Have you checked our promotion page?”
“No.’
“Have you gotten our texts or emails?” She asked over her reading glasses.
“This little phone has been crashing … a … lot. If the texts and emails weren’t from friends they were just deleted.”
She turned the computer screen around for me to see. I could upgrade to last years model for a $200.00 discount.
“The payments are broken up over 30 months.” She let her glasses hang from their chain on to her practical black sweater and clasped her hands on the countertop.
“Oh Shelly,” I said as the realization kicked in, “this isn’t a discount. It’s a contract.”
She smiled a knowing smile.
“It’s a discount that saves you $200.00 on what’s arguably been their best phone in 5 years,” she said with a confident energy that her twenty something counterpart wouldn’t be able to muster for at least another ten years.
I honestly couldn’t argue with her. I was about to try when I finally looked up and saw the literal writing on the wall.
This was divine intervention. Everything does happens for a reason.
“Can’t argue with the … the … new manager.”
Over her shoulder was a recent promotions photo I had missed earlier.
“Thank you. It’s recent. My boss’s husband got a great offer in Iowa. She was able to get a management position out there and I was promoted. It all happened so quickly.”
“Congratulations,” I said awkwardly.
I decided on last years discounted device. The parking lot was still quiet when I walked back to my car.
I was struggling a little bit. Apparently I had missed Grocery Girl by about a week.
I had prepared to not poke the bear only to find out there was no bear to poke. Like most of those before her, she had chosen to leave. My build up had been blown up like the dot coms.
I had the satisfaction of bringing home the new phone to the comfy couch at my Mom’s house, at least that’s what I told myself.
I wanted to stop by the store earlier but just felt like that would have made things awkward.
The parking lot was quiet. This little town on the way to Mom’s place was struggling. It used to be a factory town. In the 1980’s and 90’s the factories left. The internet exploded in the early 2000’s. The new hip internet business model wasn’t quite ready for business yet and it slowly fell apart.
The town had barely started to recover from the collapse of the dot coms when the great housing crash hit. The big box stores had moved in and were slowly moving out smaller Mom & Pop shops leaving empty store fronts.
The people in town had few choices and many of them chose to leave.
Today was the day. Months of talking and planning were about to be replaced with a few minutes of doing. The rep at the phone/tablet/watch store had given me the lowdown on the phones I was looking at and how long they had been at this store. For some reason the color black wasn’t popular at this store so it wasn’t flying off the shelves like it was every where else.
I knew this was divine intervention. Everything happens for a reason. It would be a quick hello to Grocery Girl, make sure all was good, and then we would get down to business. Scratch the standard isms and the personal questions. Get your phone and go. Keep it sparse. Don’t poke the bear.
I pumped myself up at the door before I went into the store. Today’s mantra: Get your phone and go.
The phone/tablet/watch HQ was pristine and practical teeming with twenty somethings alert, attuned, and attentive.
This corporate cellular store had gray and navy carpet squares to offset the bold but dated wallpaper. The cases that held the accessories were basic plastic. The goal was to hold and display the product. The cases did their job.
“Be right with you, sir,” said the woman behind the counter. Her reading glasses were at the end of her nose.
“Thank you … Shelly,” I said as I got close enough to read her name tag.
When she was done we exchanged pleasantries and then got straight down to business. I had narrowed it down to the upgrade of my current phone or last years latest, but not greatest, phone.
I was also looking out for Grocery Girl while trying not to look out for her at the same time. Get your phone and go.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look at this years new model?” She asked.
“I’m just not a huge fan. It seems like all the updates and new camera kind of kill the battery life.” I had been doing research and just hadn’t been impressed.
“I am torn between the two. I like the update of my old phone. Last year’s phone has great battery life even with a bigger screen BUT it’s $150 more.”
“You’ve done your research. And you are right. The phone is sort of $150.00 more.”
“Sort of?” I leaned in. She had my attention.
“How long have you been a customer?” She walked back to the counter.
“20 years.”
“Have you checked our promotion page?”
“No.’
“Have you gotten our texts or emails?” She asked over her reading glasses.
“This little phone has been crashing … a … lot. If the texts and emails weren’t from friends they were just deleted.”
She turned the computer screen around for me to see. I could upgrade to last years model for a $200.00 discount.
“The payments are broken up over 30 months.” She let her glasses hang from their chain on to her practical black sweater and clasped her hands on the countertop.
“Oh Shelly,” I said as the realization kicked in, “this isn’t a discount. It’s a contract.”
She smiled a knowing smile.
“It’s a discount that saves you $200.00 on what’s arguably been their best phone in 5 years,” she said with a confident energy that her twenty something counterpart wouldn’t be able to muster for at least another ten years.
I honestly couldn’t argue with her. I was about to try when I finally looked up and saw the literal writing on the wall.
This was divine intervention. Everything does happens for a reason.
“Can’t argue with the … the … new manager.”
Over her shoulder was a recent promotions photo I had missed earlier.
“Thank you. It’s recent. My boss’s husband got a great offer in Iowa. She was able to get a management position out there and I was promoted. It all happened so quickly.”
“Congratulations,” I said awkwardly.
I decided on last years discounted device. The parking lot was still quiet when I walked back to my car.
I was struggling a little bit. Apparently I had missed Grocery Girl by about a week.
I had prepared to not poke the bear only to find out there was no bear to poke. Like most of those before her, she had chosen to leave. My build up had been blown up like the dot coms.
I had the satisfaction of bringing home the new phone to the comfy couch at my Mom’s house, at least that’s what I told myself.
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