Tales of Retail

Can't sleep...must blog....

Tales of Retail
Chapter One: A Snowglobe Story

At Christmas time, the store where I work sells tons of snowglobes from Austria, made by the original snowglobe company from 1900. Seriously, we sold hundreds of these last winter. They come in four sizes, and each have different figurines inside. Some were traditional, containing a Christmas tree or an ice skater. Others were a little different, like the line of circus snowglobes with clowns, lion tamers, and acrobats. This particular story concerns the second smallest snowglobe which contained a pig. (Pigs are considered good luck in many parts of Europe.)
The second smallest snowglobe is slightly larger than a gumball you get from those machines at the mall. The smallest snowglobe (I happen to own one of the smallest with a clown in it) is slightly smaller than a gumball. I know, because I can easily fit it between my jaws and still have enough leverage to bite down. If I were, you know, so inclined. Also, these snowglobes are real glass, and say so on the box they come in. Also written clearly on the box are the words "not suitable for young children".

A woman came in with her two granddaughters (approximately 7-10 years old) and one of them wanted a snowglobe. This woman had been in before, and had always been a difficult customer to please. She also had a tendency to yell unnecessarily at her granddaughters. She made a big scene with one of the granddaughters over the snowglobe, telling her that if she got a snowglobe she couldn't get a book, and she needed to decide right now if that's what she wanted. The girl clearly wanted the snowglobe, and said so, but her grandmother continued to lecture her until finally the girl just burst into tears.

In the end, the snowglobe was purchased, and the girl was happy.

Fast forward a few weeks.

The two little girls arrived at the store. This time, the grandmother was not with them, instead, they had brought the rest of the family. Mother, father, other grandmother and grandfather. The mother marched up to me with a broken pig snowglobe in her hand.

"My daughter dropped this snowglobe and it broke. I'd like a replacement."

I looked at the snowglobe, saw that it was one of the pig globes, and went to fetch another. Unfortunately, the pig was popular. We had sold out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't have another one. These are all the snowglobes I have left."

The mother heaved a great sigh. "You don't have another one? Well, can you get one?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "I'm sorry, but these come from Austria, we can't get anymore this year."

The mother looked extremely put-out.

"Well, can you give me a refund, or something?" she asked angrily.

"A refund?" I repeated, a confused lilt to my voice.

"Yeah, I mean, it just broke the first time she dropped it."

"Um, well, it IS real glass, so you have to be careful with it. We had someone break one in the store, and they paid for it."

She stared harder at me.

"It's not real glass," she said with such certainty, I found myself doubting this very solid fact.

"Uh, I...I..." I stuttered. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you. It is real glass. These are handmade in Austria by the original snowglobe company." I wanted to add, "it says so right on the box, you idiot" but I didn't think that would help the situation. The daughter who owned the snowglobe in question began to cry at this point.

"Okay, well, I need a new one, what else do you have?" asked the mother, as though I had placed an enormous burden on her. I showed her the snowglobes, and she and her daughter began negotiating. It was then that I was called away to another customer, so the rest of the story I got from my boss, who finished dealing with the woman.

Apparently, she kept insisting that we should give her the new snowglobe for free. My boss asked how it was broken, and was surprised that it had actually broken when it was dropped.
While they ARE made of glass, they're actually very sturdy, especially the smaller ones. It was after she pointed this out that the woman came out with the full story.

Her daughter hadn't simply dropped the snowglobe. She had thrown a tantrum and hurled the snowglobe against a wall. In spite of this confession, and the fact that we could not at all be held responsible for little girls' temper tantrums in which they throw glass objects, my boss still gave the woman a discount on the new snowglobe.

I think she was just happy that they were leaving.



More to come...stay tuned!

Jules