The value of retail laziness
I got a hell of a deal today.
I'd stopped in at Wal*Mart to pick up a certain item that I'd had in mind as a late Christmas gift for my sweetheart. (We've been in seperate towns for the duration of Christmas break, so we decided that she'd get her gifts after we came back to school after break.) After wandering around to no avail, I asked a clerk, who directed me to the appropriate section.
I found the item in question, but there were only two of them, from different brands, and opened and on display, to boot. In other words, they were both sans boxes, but there were price stickers on the shelves below them, for $15 and $20, respectively. The pricier model looked to be of better quality and had more bells and whistles, so I grabbed it. I checked to make sure it had all of its instruction booklets, attachments, and whatnot all intact. They were, so who needs a box that would eventually get thrown away anyway?
I inquired about the lack of boxage at the department head, who informed me that because it was without packaging, they'd probably need a price check on the thing when I went to buy it. "Whatever," I thought, and went to the express checkout.
When it came to my turn in line, I informed the clerk that she'd probably need to perform this PRICE CHECK, a complicated process which involves five black candles and no less than three ounces of blood from a small mammal. Since this is obviously far too intricate a thing for the average retail monkey to perform, she hesitantly strode over to an intercom phone and summoned one of her superiors, people who get to wear red "How Can I Help You?" jerkins instead of blue.
A frazzled-looking woman appeared around the corner, took a hasty glance at the item, and said "Five bucks" without batting an eye, then turned on her heel and returned to whatever managerial duties that had put her into such a foul temperament. The clerk looked over at the item, pulled out a small booklet of yellow pages to consult some evil magics, and clumsily punched in some numbers like she was playing Wack-a-Mole. I strode away with item in hand, having saved $15.
Was it my shopping knack that got me such a deal, or was it the apathy of a clerk who had no incentive to actually consult the department from which the item originated to make an additional $15 for the company?
Regardless, I got a nice item that I feel is definitely worth $20 for a wholesale price. Now, the real question is this: Does it cheapen the gift value if I give a $5 item that I was willing to pay $20 for? I hope not. I mean, I'd certainly love to have one of these. I hope she lets me use it. Since she reads this journal, I'll reveal what the gift was once she's received it.
I'd stopped in at Wal*Mart to pick up a certain item that I'd had in mind as a late Christmas gift for my sweetheart. (We've been in seperate towns for the duration of Christmas break, so we decided that she'd get her gifts after we came back to school after break.) After wandering around to no avail, I asked a clerk, who directed me to the appropriate section.
I found the item in question, but there were only two of them, from different brands, and opened and on display, to boot. In other words, they were both sans boxes, but there were price stickers on the shelves below them, for $15 and $20, respectively. The pricier model looked to be of better quality and had more bells and whistles, so I grabbed it. I checked to make sure it had all of its instruction booklets, attachments, and whatnot all intact. They were, so who needs a box that would eventually get thrown away anyway?
I inquired about the lack of boxage at the department head, who informed me that because it was without packaging, they'd probably need a price check on the thing when I went to buy it. "Whatever," I thought, and went to the express checkout.
When it came to my turn in line, I informed the clerk that she'd probably need to perform this PRICE CHECK, a complicated process which involves five black candles and no less than three ounces of blood from a small mammal. Since this is obviously far too intricate a thing for the average retail monkey to perform, she hesitantly strode over to an intercom phone and summoned one of her superiors, people who get to wear red "How Can I Help You?" jerkins instead of blue.
A frazzled-looking woman appeared around the corner, took a hasty glance at the item, and said "Five bucks" without batting an eye, then turned on her heel and returned to whatever managerial duties that had put her into such a foul temperament. The clerk looked over at the item, pulled out a small booklet of yellow pages to consult some evil magics, and clumsily punched in some numbers like she was playing Wack-a-Mole. I strode away with item in hand, having saved $15.
Was it my shopping knack that got me such a deal, or was it the apathy of a clerk who had no incentive to actually consult the department from which the item originated to make an additional $15 for the company?
Regardless, I got a nice item that I feel is definitely worth $20 for a wholesale price. Now, the real question is this: Does it cheapen the gift value if I give a $5 item that I was willing to pay $20 for? I hope not. I mean, I'd certainly love to have one of these. I hope she lets me use it. Since she reads this journal, I'll reveal what the gift was once she's received it.