Kelly Gibbons, artist and writer, about me

Thursday, April 08, 2004

I took the girls and two of their friends window shopping. They were bored and looking for something to do and tagged along while I ran some errands. We had some extra time, and we were in a town that has a traditional old time main street so we decided to check out all the unique shops set up in the beautiful old buildings. It's a place where window shopping is normally welcomed, and the buildings are as interesting as the items in them. I don't get to walk through the town as often as I like, but whenever I get the chance I do.

For the most part we were very welcome, well, we were after the shop keepers realized I was a part of the group. The four teenagers with me are all taller than me and of course they always run ahead. Most stores we went it to we received a friendly but cautious greeting, "Hello, can I help you girls?"

When I popped out from behind the girls, and said, "No, we're just looking," the tone suddenly changed.

"Oh, fine, look around, if I can help you with anything, please let me know."

This didn't bother me, well, maybe a little, but I understand. I have seen how some kids act and I understood their caution. I could accept that. What I couldn't accept is the reaction we got when we went into the "department store".

The store has been in the town for years. It's the place my grandmother used to shop every Christmas Eve when my father was a boy (my dad is around 60 now). I barely knew my grandmother (actually I only recall meeting her once--that's a whole other story) or anyone from my father's side of the family (again, whole other story). My point is that the store has been part of my family for years. I don't have many stories from that side of the family, so I use the ones I have. Tradition, overkill, I'm not sure, but every time I go into that building, I tell the shopping story of the grandmother I didn't know. I tell how she would begin and finish her Christmas shopping there every Christmas Eve.

The store has some weird nostalgia for me, so I sort of feel obligated to go there whenever I'm in the town. Not any more. The five of us walked into the store and as usual the tall girls (a.k.a. twins and their friends) were up front. As we entered, I noticed a HUGE sign on the door that said OPEN and I'm pretty sure it said welcome. I assumed that meant everyone.

We walked in and got, the customary greeting, but this time with a little more edge. I stepped to the front and responded in the same way as I did in the other shops, but this clerk didn't smile at me.

"We're filming a commercial here." (They were setting up, the camera man was kneeling on the ground still fiddling with the equipment. Honest, we didn't bust in during the middle of the thing. No one yelled cut, it hadn't progressed that far yet.)

"OK, we were just going to look."

That's when I got the eye roll, a hand motion (she started to swish at us like we were a herd of cattle) and a snotty reply, "Well, you can..."

That's were I cut her off, and said, "Ok, hey its no problem, we'll leave."

Of course at that point she tried to be nice. Too late. I said, "Come on girls, we'll go somewhere else."

We walked out the door, and I checked once again, the sign did say OPEN and WELCOME. I had to wonder why we were questioned. Honest I was dressed presentable--not one hole in my jeans.

The kicker is, there are other doors to this place and it was loaded with other people. I think the better approach would be to lock the door and post a sign, "Please use other door". I've seen these signs before, they are not rude.

My other thought as I left this store, is maybe they should spend more money training there employees how to treat the customers they'd like to attract by making these big fancy commercials.

I thought about writing a letter to the manager (then thought, maybe she was the manager). I didn't think this would get me anywhere anyway, her defense would be, "Well, there were a bunch of unruly teenagers with her!" (They weren't filming yet, it would be her word against mine.)

I also thought about buying a lot of stuff somewhere else and walking back into the store--Pretty Woman style. I don't think they work on commissions there though, and I've come to terms with the fact I'm not Julia Roberts. I decided against those, but decided to create a new tradition: When I'm in town, that's the one store I won't go into anymore.

posted by Kelly @ 4/08/2004 08:29:00 AM

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