It Pays to Be Mindful When Shopping

The best shopping tip is to be mindful.

On April 21, I entered the local Rite Aid armed with a coupon from a store circular. It said I would earn $15 in store credit (what they call “BonusCash”) if during the week in question I made a purchase of $50 or more.

A smart shopper should think twice before heading out to use this “earn $15” coupon. If you don’t need $50 worth of merchandise in the first place, or if you can buy the merchandise for a lot less elsewhere, then you’re playing into the store’s hands by going there with the coupon.

And don’t feel pressured by the coupon’s deadline. The same deal will be repeated at least once a month. Better to wait until you need the merchandise.

If you go to Rite Aid and pick up a circular from the available stack, there will not be any such coupon. It is available only in the circulars that get mailed to your home. Putting the coupon in circulars found in the store would reward people who had come to the store anyway. The goal of such coupons is to get people to the store who otherwise wouldn’t be there.

I also brought with me a slip of paper that had been spat out by their cash register in a transaction a month earlier. It was not a coupon, but a promotion, saying if I buy three or more of a certain shampoo or conditioner, I would receive a $5 credit toward future Rite Aid purchases. (I brought it with me because I didn’t trust the store’s computers to honor the deal.)

I bought the shampoos and conditioners. Supermarkets sell the brand for less but seldom stock the essence my wife prefers. Rite Aid is best for that.

So I bought two shampoos and three conditioners, plus two containers of vitamins for my wife (buy one, get one free), and a nasal spray for me. As usual, I watched each item ring up to make sure it scanned correctly.

Every now and then I would turn around, to make sure no line had formed. But I was the only customer at checkout.

So I paid a guy named Scott the $55.93 and checked on the register tape that $15 of store credit had been earned. It had.

But there was no credit for having bought the shampoos and conditioners.

I pointed this out to Scott, who took the slip of paper with the store’s promotion, studied it, then admitted I should have received another $5 credit. But for reasons neither he nor I could understand, the computerized cash register refused to honor the store’s promotion.

This happens often with store promotions and sales and rewards gimmicks – another reason I object to such silly games. Most of the time the customer doesn’t even notice that their reward hasn’t materialized.

But mindful customers notice. “What can be done?” I quietly asked. Asking this question is a lot nicer than screaming or shouting at anyone. After all, it’s the computer, not the person, that is making the mistake.

Scott said he would ring me up a separate transaction for the shampoo bonus alone. Instead of giving me a $5 bonus, he decided to make it $6 to compensate me for my trouble.

I thanked him but asked if making such a decision on his own might get him into trouble with management.

I asked because it’s my experience that chain stores prefer workers who blindly follow rules without taking the initiative to make decisions.

Scott explained he wouldn’t get in trouble with management, because he himself was management.

Ah, I thought, so that’s why he was allowed to think for himself. That’s why he was able to provide such great service.

And for Scott’s great service, I say: Thank you.

Elated with such great service, I went next door to a dollar store. There was no one on line ahead of me, but one customer was being served at the checkout. After her transaction was complete, she remained there, telling the cashier her life story. The cashier did and said nothing to stop the customer’s droning.

While this was going on, the only other employee on the premises announced she “needed” a cigarette break and went out for a smoke. I can understand “needing” an insulin injection. But I struggle with “needing” a cigarette.

After more than five minutes of quietly waiting, as the customer’s life story droned on, I put my two items back on the shelf and exited without a word.

That was bad service.

It’s around us all the time. Bad service. Good service. And silly games.

But you’ll never notice unless you’re mindful.