Lost In The Super Market

February 2003

Anyone remember when the neighborhood store was actually smaller than the neighborhood? Ask most Americans the last thing they bought that didn't come from an oversized chain store. They'll think back a long time in their heads, then tell you it was a 75-cent pack of Marlboros, or that 8-track of the new Donnie and Marie album. These days, most of us shop at the local Giganticos, or some other store big enough to have its own gravitational pull.

The problem with these stores is that bigger doesn't always mean better. The These Days Law of Retailers states that as a store's floorspace increases, its customer service shrinks. As an example, here's a true story about a recent adventure into one of my local home-improvement megastores for some duct tape. I was pressed for time, but thought, "it's just one item, it'll only take a minute." I'd missed the foreshadowing, as usual; if I was in a horror movie, I'd be the guy who says, "I'll be right back," just before getting cleaved by the maniac with the chainsaw.

My knowledge of hardware ends at the three types of screwdrivers: standard, Phillips, and butter knife -- so I asked one of the floor workers where I should look. "It's over there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Hmm," I said, looking at the 35 miles of stock behind him, "there's a lot of 'there' over there. Did you have a specific 'there' in mind?"

"Well, I know it's on one of the shelves." That narrowed the options. At least I now knew that they weren't hanging the tape from the ceiling or hoarding it in some underground dungeon. Which was good news, since I had left both my Spider-Man outfit and Indiana Jones hat at home.

I turned to begin my search and nearly avoided two men on a speeding forklift carrying a load of lumber. (One man was driving, while another stood on the back and "navigated" by waving at customers to get out of the way.) Fortunately, I managed to jump back like that slow-motion bullet-dodging shot from The Matrix. Okay, it looked more like a guy who spends too much time at a computer ducking a splintery head injury, but you get the idea.

After 10 minutes and miles of aisles, I found the object of my quest. There was only one roll left, unwrapped, and partially used. Why, you ask, would anyone on the staff steal half a roll of duct tape? Who knows, it sure wasn't being used to hang directional signs.

I hurried to join the 97 other shoppers on one of the two available cashier lines, but found two groups of employees blocking all store traffic. One group stood on a network of lifts, trying to fix the sockets of an overhanging electrical light display...with the power still turned on. Using electric drills and pliers. The other roadblock was a team of eight mouthbreathers standing around a tall lumber display while the Forklift Guys (my old nemesis) tried to figure out how to position their load on a high shelf. This "figuring" was done by moving the forklift back and forth over the same five feet of floor space.

I chose to wait by the Forklift Guys. I'd had my dodging practice for the evening, so I knew I could better evade a piece of runaway heavy equipment than an arc of man-made lightning.

After 10 minutes of wearing tire tracks into the floor, the workers stopped to think things over. Eight men stood in a semi-circle scratching their heads and gesturing to each other, looking like the Monkeys At The Monolith scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey. I expected one of them to toss a wrench so it could turn into a spaceship.

When I reached the front of the checkout line (noting I needed another shave since entering the store), the clerk looked at my used roll of duct tape. It didn't have the UPC label, and his PA page went unanswered (his boss had probably been electrocuted or run over by now), so he wandered off looking for help. After several minutes, I suddenly had the urge for a cigarette, and I've never smoked. I gave up and walked out of the store empty handed, but happy I was free before the next Ice Age.

Sure, stores like this are conveniently located -- heck, around here, they're on every other block -- but convenience is supposed to be both quick and simple. Back when many stores were small and owned by one person or family, the few employees knew everything about the store and went out of their way to help. These days, many of the local Big-Marts seem more interested in building stores big enough to apply for statehood, rather than training their overworked staff the difference between a dishwasher and a power washer. (Which would explain why the contents of my sink fly across the kitchen when I clean up the dinnerware.)

Let's do everyone a favor. Every now and then on shopping trips, give the little Mom-and-Pop retailers a chance. You might be pleasantly surprised, and you'll be keeping yet another business from falling to the armies of brightly-colored smocks. Sure, you may travel a little extra to find one, but you'd walk the same distance to the chain store checkout line anyway.

LEGAL STUFF: All content copyright © 1996-2006 Daniel O'Leary. All rights reserved. No unauthorized duplication, publication, or distribution.

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He has previously written online editorials to NJ-shout.com (RIP), Great Society.org, and Songsource.com, among others. He has also been featured in ShoreGuide and AbsoluteWrite.com.

Dan is a current member of the NetWits humorist's collective.

Since his early twenties, Dan's writings have also been prominently featured on the refrigerator in his parents' home. "Sure, they make no sense," Mrs. O'Leary comments, "but we're proud of him -- no matter what everyone else says."