Rethinking the Box: The Seven Types of Customer.
[alternate title: Are you sure you want to do this?]
[also, while I refer to our visitors and guests as ‘customers’ by default, as will become obvious, not everyone is a paying customer. In fact, most aren’t.]
The Seven Types of Bookstore Customer.
(an incomplete but also mostly comprehensive list)
Seekers
The most straightforward of any of our customer types, the seekers want a book. A specific book: only this book will do. Prominent sub-types:
- High School Students: It was assigned by the teacher. They don’t have a choice.
- College Students: They mistakenly believe that 1. we’re actually stocking their textbooks, and 2. we’re going to be cheaper than the college bookstore. HA!
- Oprahites: according to reliable contemporary reports, by the 23rd Century Oprah is a religion. If the book was written by a guest on her show, fans want it. If The One True Host actually recommends the book, then booksellers must be prepared to defend themselves (against force) because some folks will be prepared to kill for it. “What do you mean you don’t have it? How can you be sold out? It was just on Oprah…” (logic doesn’t work on Oprahites)
- NPR listeners: Heard it on NPR. (it’s usually a good book, but we’re also not stocking it yet — and on top of that, I’ve been stuck at work while you’re listening to the radio; if you can’t remember the title I won’t be able to come up with it.)
- CNN/FOX/MSNBC/CSPAN BookTV/Daily Show/Colbert/Larry King/Today/Tonight/CBS Sunday Morning/et al. — same story here as NPR above: throw me a bone, give me a title or an author. It’s great you can relate to me your TV watching habits, but that doesn’t mean I can find your book.
- Trufans. “I want the new book by Author X.” And sure, I’ll try to help you with that. The Trufan ignores three salient points: 1. the author may not have a new book; 2. despite ads or reviews or internet rumors, the author’s new book may not be coming out for another 3 months, or 6 months, or a year (or ever); & 3. the author may in fact be dead.
[unrelated to the book business: While I was working as the manager for the music department for my store I had to entertain weekly calls from a customer looking for the new Bob Marley album. I tried to explain, in as many different variations that I could manage, that there wouldn’t be a new Bob Marley album, and that maybe he was thinking of Ziggy or Stephen Marley, or even some other artist, and maybe certain recreational hobbies might be clouding his recollection, and occasionally I felt the message got though — but in a week to ten days he’d call again and we’d have the same conversation] [which is a nice segue to…]
Idiots
Technically a subclass of Seeker, these ‘customers’ deserve their own listing:
Yeah, I get it, the cover of the book is red. Can you recall even one word in the title? Or the author’s first name? Or if it’s fiction or non-fiction? Color, while vivid in your own memory, is in fact the least helpful detail you can give us about any book. Prominent sub-type:
- Saw it in the New York Times. Granted, we have the NYT Book Review; I can walk the three feet from the info desk to the display where we stock it, I can open up the paper and read it, to find the title that you can’t remember; I can even do this right in front of you, to give the illusion that you’ve provided the information that I need to find the book you’re looking for. This exercise, repeated with different customers at least twice a week, is routine — but it doesn’t make you less of an idiot.
Grazers
Grazers don’t need a book, or want a book, but they love coming in to the bookstore, and love lingering leisurely over all the tables, racks, endcaps, promotional displays, and front-of-store placements. If they can do this while a bookseller is attempting to replenish or reset the display, all the better.
The only redeeming feature of a grazer is that they can only accomplish their task with a cup of coffee in their hand — pardon, with a $4 half-soy-half-decaf-latte-with-a-shot-of-pretention — and while they clog the main aisle and generally pose a hazard to navigation, they are mostly harmless. They might try to casually engage you conversation, “How’s Business?”, but they don’t really care. Their primary goal is being in a bookstore for an hour each week so they can insert an off-hand, “oh I saw that the other day at Big Box Books” in later conversations, proving to their friends that they are topical and literate.
Bonus: They buy coffee. Margins on coffee are excellent.
Browsers
Not to be confused with Grazers, who are content to look at anything so long as it’s a vaguely booklike object set up on the most prominent, most convenient displays, the Browser has an interest, or a Goal: They want a gardening book, but don’t need that specific gardening book. They’re mystery fans, but are happy with any decent read, they don’t need the latest book from the one author who writes the cat mysteries, “oh, you know the books I’m talking about, they’re so good and I can’t wait for the new one, surely you know the author I’m talking about” (sadly, ‘cat mysteries’ isn’t specific enough — and I hate you.)
The Great Thing about Browsers is that once you direct them to the appropriate section, they’ll help themselves — for years. Most genre fans — sci-fi, fantasy, romance, mystery [except the weird cat people], horror, and yes the comic and manga fans — are browsers. There are many, many sub-types but they all behave the same way:
“Where are your [books of type x]?” … “Thanks.” End of conversation.
Campers
They rattle the doors before we even open. They rush in, as soon as we unlock said doors, and then make a bee-line for their prefered corner. They complain we don’t have enough chairs, or tables. They Suck. Prominent sub-types:
- Urban Campers. AKA the homeless. They need a place to take care of certain biological needs, and for personal hygenie (when we’re lucky they want to clean up). They’re looking for a place to refill water bottles. They’re bored. At very best, we’ll hardly notice them, as they take care of the necessary and then (maybe after reading for 3 or 4 hours) leave. At worst… they snore. Strike that: at worst, they smell — homeless funk is a funk you hope you never have to smell, but once known it is impossible to forget. They park humongous luggage next to ‘their’ chair and then they go do, whatever. I’ve known cases where they park their bags and leave like we’re some kind of bus station locker. Given the sad way we treat our mentally ill and homeless, I have to occasionally deal with people who violently react to nothing at all, because the only ‘authority’ that will interact with these people this week, is a bookstore. We accomodate those we can. The well behaved, who just want a chance to wash up (in the limited fashion we can accomodate) and go number two and stand around for a bit in the air conditioning/heat — that’s the best of it. 90% of the time — we have to ask folks to leave.
- Internet Hobos. Have laptop, will travel. I must admit, when I’m at a bookstore on my day off, I’m just as guilty. — Wifi, an outlet, and food/caffeine? The Internet Hobo needs little else. Actually, I think we could do a better job providing electrical outlets to this type of customer, but many of our stores were built a decade ago (or more) and back in the day, no one thought of this as a ‘customer service’ yet.
- Entrepreneurs. Dude. If you have a concept, and a business plan, and an iPhone, and you’re still trying to run it from a table at the bookstore cafe? Yeah, I know we’re in a recession and all but you’re not a start-up. You’re a con artist, and the first person you conned is yourself.
- Tutors. OK, so these are small business people and their only fault is they have no classroom: If you wanted to learn a foreign language or pass the GRE, then you don’t have to pay a dime or sign up for anything — you just need to chance upon the right person at the right time in the right bookstore cafe, and you can piggyback on someone else’s session because a thousand tutors school a thousand students in bookstores across the country every day of the week.
- Students. Dude. We’re not a library, so don’t complain to me that the music is too loud or we don’t have a free table at 9pm on a Saturday night. We’re not the library. Hell, the library isn’t even open at 9pm on a Saturday night. Yeah, fine, bring in your bookbag and use our stacks like a giant reference section and hell, bring in your study partners or the group project or whatever — just remember that this isn’t the school library. We’ve got our own thing, trying to run a business and all, and while I know the dressed-all-in-black grad student is buying triple espressos, maybe the rest of you could also purchase something while you tie up two tables and empty three shelves out of the graphic design section?
- Weekend Warriors. Try not to snore too loudly, you’ll disturb the Urban Campers. It never fails: someone who, to all outward appearances, looks like just another customer, comes in around 10am on a weekend, finds a chair, and then sleeps. They don’t look homeless… is there no opportunity to sleep at home? Is the overstuffed chair at the bookstore that much better than, say, your own bed, at home? — We also occasionally see this type during the week, but they usually represent as conventioneers (and hence visitors to our fair city) and so I don’t mind so much — but this does little to explain the persistent nappers who assault our store every Saturday and Sunday.
- Furniture. You call them “Manga Cows”, I used to call them “Sponges”. They’re there, in the aisles. They have no shame; you can walk over, around, in front of, occasionally on them (“so sorry, didn’t see you there”) and yet, they don’t move. They can be moved, with effort, but much like the more typical sort of funiture re-arranging — after five minutes someone changes their mind and the furniture ends up back in the place that it started
Independents
They don’t want help. They want a computer terminal they can use themselves. They want up-to-date inventory numbers aligned with an up-to-date store map, so they can go find the book themselves. If the book isn’t in the store, they want up-to-date warehouse information, so they can order it themselves.
In other words, they want a bookseller, but they don’t want any of that messy human contact. And they want an online sales site, but they prefer to drive out to a retail location, as opposed to the convenience of using a website at home.
Yeah, I don’t understand it either.
Time-sucks
“I’m looking for a book for an 8 year old, but she reads at 10th grade level. I’m looking for a book for a gaucho interested in pre-WWI german philosophy. I need a birthday present for my cousin’s broker’s tennis coach, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t read books.”
You All Suck
My personal pet peeve:
“I’m looking for a coffee-table book on…”
OK. News flash: There Is No Such Thing As A Coffee Table Book.
No publisher lists them that way, no store or online sales site lists them that way, and while I know what you mean my store inventory doesn’t list them that way and your insistence that why, of course there’s a coffee table book on organic ostrich farming doesn’t conjure said book into existence.
This is, in fact, a business model — You want to start a bookstore? I’ll give you this one for free, name and all: The Coffee Table Bookstore. Stock every full-colour, large format book you can find, on every topic (pets, cooking, travel — especially travel, you’ll need at least one book for every city, country, and region ever designated by man — arts, crafts, Art-with-a-Capital-A — you’ll need at least one book for every artist and art movement ever designated by man — architecture, interior design, TV shows, movies, history, every armed force ever fielded, every aspect of every major war, and just for kicks: a dozen dozen books on every musician, actor, celebrity — and twice as many just on Elvis) — oh yeah, and stock two copies of everthing because your customers will want to see and touch and feel and browse everything before they buy it it, and will be just as insistant that you only sell them a pristine, untouched, preferably shrink-wrapped-in-plastic copy.
(I didn’t say it was a good business model. There’s a customer demand, is all.)
Some customers will latch on, from the point where you ask, “can I help you?” to the very bitter end of the business day. They want recommendations, but discard all your suggestions out of hand. They switch from fiction to kids to biography to magazines to interior design and back to fiction and then on to board games (which you don’t even carry, but that they expect you to carry) with ease, and with a speed that will leave you breathless, changing topics even before you can answer their last question.
This isn’t an easy business. Despite our customers’ perceptions, this isn’t even a nice business.
Selling books is harsh.
##
In any given bookstore (or comic book store) we can only accomodate some of these customers, especially considering that at least six (or maybe all seven) of the customer types are mutually exclusive.
In my next post, I’ll try to sell you on my version of a Graphic Novel Book Store, and I’ll reference this article when it comes to how to stock and organize it.
There’s an immediate follow-up spurred by some of the comments below
YAWN Hipster dud bookseller hates his customers. What’s new?
Comment by Max Heilan — 2 June 2009, 12:31 #
So Sorry you have to help customers. Must be a drag.
Comment by Clint Hollingsworth — 2 June 2009, 13:06 #
that is exactly what working in a bookstore was like! i worked in one in a train station- imagine these people but “i need it right now my train was boarding 5 minutes ago!”
Comment by Heather — 2 June 2009, 18:32 #
I’m a Browser who sometimes slips towards Grazer. I also have Independent tendencies, often using the computer at home, but preferring the instant gratification of carrying the book out of the store.
Comment by James A Woods — 2 June 2009, 19:57 #
Hmm. I buy most of my books online, so I go into a bookstore for two and a half reasons:
1) There’s a book I want and I don’t want to wait for shipping. In this case I definitely go Independent; I’ll check online to see which area store has it in stock, look it up on the map when I get there, and not talk to the staff unless I can’t find it on the shelf. (People can be fun. Books are more fun. Just sell me the damn book, thanks.)
2) Killing time/Borders sent me a coupon/“hey, there’s a bookstore in this mall” random drop-in. This results in Browsing.
2.5) Gifts. “My coworker’s birthday is tomorrow and I have one hour after work today to find a gift and he likes, uhhh… coffee and travel writing! What books in this store are about coffee or travel?” Again, I prefer to mess with the computer catalog myself, partly so I don’t have to feel guilty about wasting someone’s time with mindless twittering and vacillating over choices. So half Browsing, half Independent?
Comment by JRBrown — 3 June 2009, 12:31 #
I’d have to say I’m an ‘Independent’: in our defence, we’ve been trained to be that way by encounters with bookstore staff who don’t actually know much about books, and have to check everything on the computer themselves. But at least if WE can get at the terminal we’ll know we’re typing in the author’s name correctly.
Comment by JRSM — 3 June 2009, 23:14 #
@JRSM: I know exactly what you mean.
That said, the computer system at my store is more than just a computerized card catalog (do you kids even know what a ‘card catalog’ is anymore?) — I can track sales, order books, set up lists for in-store promotions, and special order items for customers.
I can’t (as it’s currently set up) just turn over the keyboard — though sneaky customers occasionally manage to use a terminal, as at my store we have several out on the sales floor and (more often than not) a bookseller forgets to log out before moving away to help someone find a book.
And in those cases I usually end up having to explain that a book ‘in stock’ at the warehouse is not the same as a book in stock at the store — some customers think they know what the listings are but it’s easy to get confused if you’re not familiar with the system.
Could bookstores do a better job, meeting the need for ‘independents’ who want to do their own searches?
Yes.
What I’d like is a hard-linked terminal that connects to the company’s web site — not our store system, but the official online portal — and if a customer finds their book that way, they can ask to have the book held in-store using an already established protocol.
Or, they could ask a bookseller. Some of us know what we’re doing. ;)
Comment by Matt Blind — 4 June 2009, 00:33 #
“What I’d like is a hard-linked terminal that connects to the company’s web site — not our store system, but the official online portal”
Don’t the bigger stores already have one or two of these scattered around? All the Borders/B&N in Boston do, at least (except for the school-affiliated stores, for some reason). I know the terminal locations for every store I visit more than once a year…
Comment by JRBrown — 4 June 2009, 11:32 #
I’m a camper/independent. I (rarely) purchase anything at a bookstore, but I do like to go to the cafe and get a chai or two (tea, etc), study a bit, or read one of my own books. Yes, I bring my own books into a bookstore; I don’t read merchandise. As far as being an independent goes, why bother the busy staff when you can do something yourself? Also, I stubbornly dislike being helped (one reason I buy almost everything online).
That said, if it’s annoying for people to come in to just buy tea or coffee, why sell it? Why have a cafe with tables? The design of places like Borders and Barnes and Noble seems to me to encourage people to treat it like it was Starbucks or Panera. So we do.
On a side note, Matthew Lesko—the infamous “free government money” infomercial host—is definitely a entrepreneur at a certain Borders…
Comment by Draneor — 4 June 2009, 20:25 #
@JRBrown: Yes, Borders has had something like this for ages and B&N is installing the same in all their new stores, while slowly (glacially slowly) added the same to older locations. The sticky wicket for B&N, as I understand it, is the store map feature — one of their units apparently does in fact direct you from ‘you are here’ to ‘find book there’ with a map on-screen. If you’re building a new store from scratch you recycle the map (just like you recycled the floor plan, blueprints, and building specs) from BigBoxStandardLayout B (or C, or whatever… so many of the new stores look the same) but retrofitting it for the one-of-a-kind locations that re-use historical buildings or are squeezed into odd urban spaces is more difficult.
That and the current sales environment doesn’t encourage anyone to make investments in tech upgrades at the mo’
@Draneor: I have only good things to say about coffee.
The profit margins on coffee are excellent. (see my follow up to this post, RtB: Application & Practice, for some brief notes on that.)
Not every Camper is as assiduous as you (or I, for that matter) when it comes to actually buying something to eat or drink while in the store. I know I didn’t make that clear in the post, as I was being too snarky and supposedly-clever for my own good — but a caffeine-addict is definitely my kind of customer.
But some just come in, claim a table, and stay all day; packing their own lunch in at least one case that I know of. People sleeping in chairs have obviously not availed themselves of the coffee, else they wouldn’t be sleeping. The homeless don’t have much in the way of disposable income, and while I know college students have more disposable income then even they realize, they’re so busy spending it in other ways, they think they have to save money while in my store.
So not all Campers are created equal. Have I ordered a book from a website while sitting in the cafe of a bookstore? In fact, I have. I’ve also downloaded albums while not more than 50 feet away from the CDs on display, while using a store’s wifi. I’d call these actions evil, or at the least thoughtless, but I also spend thousands of dollars on books and other media each year. I’m an atypical customer all-around.
It sounds like you (and most commentors so far) are too. Which is, I think, a good thing. The ’7 types’ are a good exercise, but merely a starting point, and can’t be considered authoritative.
Comment by Matt Blind — 4 June 2009, 21:35 #
@Matt Blind, I know what a card catalog is. The local library has placed the cards next to computer terminals so patrons can write Dewey numbers for the books they want on the back.
I’ve been meaning to snatch one and bring it home. It’ll be like having a little piece of history.
Comment by James A Woods — 5 June 2009, 19:05 #
Do you have to be so negative? I have been a bookseller, during which time I loved my job, and considered many of these types to be good customers.
I did work in a relatively small bookstore, though. I can imagine that in a larger bookstore, where seller/customer contact is rarer and less personal, that the types of customers I valued would become annoying.
Comment by B. Peregrine — 6 June 2009, 12:10 #
@B. Peregrine: My experience is going to be much more, corporate in orientation. I don’t get as many opportunities for one-on-one, personal connections with customers, or the chance to do much more than give the-11-sec.-summary-and-pitch on a book (even a book I like) because during the afternoon rush I’ll be helping 50 customers an hour — or only helping 25-30 or so because I also have to cover a register half the time.
It’s during this rush that we see the best and the worst of our customers — both those that are patient and understanding, and a pleasure to work with and for… and those that will cut in line, throw questions at you even though it’s obvious you’re currently helping someone else, demand you open another register because there are two whole people in the line ahead of them, and who proudly say, “No Thank You. If you don’t have it here I’ll just order it from Amazon.”
(regardless of how much help we might have provided up to that point in identifying the book)
And did you read the follow-up post to this? Here’s the relevant bit:
Comment by Matt Blind — 6 June 2009, 13:28 #
I walk straight into the genre fic section (several times a week unless i’m really broke) browse happily for ages, almost always buy something. Order online if it’s not in store and if I stop for coffee and to play online I have already bought three books about ten mins ago. I love book stores. I do sometime sask for help finding something specific usually in comic book stores because I never know how the shelves are organised.
Comment by hagelrat — 9 June 2009, 08:38 #
Love this — I used to work at Borders (on the floor as a bookseller), and this taxonomy is spot-on. Even now that I no longer get the employee discount, I try really hard not to order online; I love having the physical bookstore to go to, and I hear (unsurprisingly, I guess) that these are tough times for the industry.
Just to counterbalance the negativity on “Seekers”, I found they also often made the most appreciative and rewarding customers. I certainly had customers who threw temper tantrums when we weren’t stocking the book they wanted (Ma’am, you’re forty years old, are you seriously stamping your foot right now?), but I also had customers who would flag down a manager to tell them I did a good job after I spent the better part of an hour trying to track down, e.g., some short story, possibly by a Canadian female author, that they read 20 years ago and now want to give to their kid for Christmas (true example — turned out to be a play, not a short story, and no longer in print). And it was pretty awesome when we finally figured out the right answer together. Anyway, I really enjoyed reading this, thank you!
Comment by Sarah — 9 June 2009, 15:35 #
Wow. How condescending and how offensive. No wonder bookstores are going out of business left and right.
I buy a lot of books (programming, fiction, photography, kids). I make a concerted effort to support my local bookstores, whether they be chains or independents, but after reading this, I think that maybe I am wasting my time.
You should be thankful you’re not working in fast food. And be careful: When Amazon drives your store and their apathetic staff under, it is very possible you will be working in fast food.
Comment by paulski — 9 June 2009, 15:36 #
@paulski:
you haven’t read the followup, or my comment to B. Peregrine, so I’ll pitch this right at you:
When I am at work, I am doing my level best to provide all my customers, including the types listed above, with the best bookstore experience.
When I am at home, writing on a blog — my personal blog, the one I built and run myself, I am free to also share my frustrations with work, including those feelings that I have to suppress while I’m in the store helping everyone, even the idiots, find the book they have in mind.
Comment by Matt Blind — 9 June 2009, 16:19 #
@James A Woods
Those cards often come pre-printed when new books come in from a vendor. We have stacks of them where I work, but there’s nothing remotely historical about them. If you want history, make sure what you’re grabbing isn’t a card that came tucked into the latest Nora Robertson.
Comment by AJ — 9 June 2009, 16:42 #
Clever and insightful post. Of course, as most humor does, it trades in stereotypes, but stereotypes happen to be hilarious when done properly and for good, rather than evil. I don’t see why people are offended, unless somehow they’re insulted that someone has noticed their annoying behavior and dared to call them out on his blog. I, for one, will be a little more cognizant of my behavior next time I enter a bookstore and try to be a little more polite, even though for me it’s really really hard. So there; your post made me a better person.
Comment by mistaketv — 9 June 2009, 16:57 #
“Independents” describes me perfectly. I do all my research online but want to pick the item up in the store so I can have it right away, see if it’s what I want in person, and also save on shipping. And I hate asking people for help because I’ll often look in the exact place the book is supposed to be in, someone will ask me “can I help you” while I’m looking in the right place and procede to look for the book in the spot I’m standing as if I didn’t just do that myself.
This applies to retail in general… if there was a pair of pants in my size I would have seen it, I don’t need someone else to look through the same pile of pants I just looked through. The reason I’m asking is because I want to know if you have it in the back somewhere, or I’m hoping you’re knowedgable enough about the product to tell me it might also be somewhere else too.
Comment by Bart — 9 June 2009, 17:24 #
Taxonomical additions: The “Locusts.” They mostly are the 9-14 age group, males, who descend upon the strategy guides and hint books for computer and console games. They NEVER buy. They look up what they need and mangle the books so badly that they wouldn’t even serve as a snot-flecked library book. They tear pages, remove maps, discs, charts, color inserts, reference cards. Shrink wrap does not deter the locusts. Curiously, locusts will not descend upon a book that has already been ravaged from prior locusts’ infestation; rather, they will open a new book to tear, rob and smudge up with French fry grease and sticky soft drink smears.
“The Incontinent” are folks who have a T.J. Max or Pick n Save shopping style. They load up with whatever looks good, and when they find themselves too encumbered to take on an additional have-to-have they offload whatever they have wherever they happen to be. When you see Children’s books laying side ways in the New Fiction Arrival rack, you know you are in the shit trail of an Incontinent.
Finally, I would add “The Voyeur.” You see them on the adult sexual aisle. Checking out the Joy of Sex and illustrated Tantric positions. When there are nude pictures inside, they open the books quarter-way and glance inside them like they are a Suburban Peeping Tom opposite an open bedroom curtain on a Saturday night.
David DeValera
Comment by David DeValera — 9 June 2009, 17:34 #
Wow, this makes me sort of glad that bookstores are going out of business.
I do see some of the Independent in myself. It’s almost always because I just happen to be near a bookstore and thinking of that one book. 99% of the time I do order it from Amazon, but since I was walking by, I figure I’d go into the shop. Rarely happens.
Comment by Andrew — 9 June 2009, 18:16 #
Rarely purchase books at the bookstore. I keep a list of books on my Blackberry. When I’m at the bookstore I will look at desired books then purchase on-line with free shipping.
Comment by Onecos — 9 June 2009, 19:15 #
It sucks that everyone can’t be as smart as you are, but since you’re working at a bookstore, isn’t it great that people like that give you stuff to do? Otherwise, the bookstore wouldn’t need to hire people to help, right? And then you’d have to work at Starbucks. I could make a list from the customer’s perspective about the 7 types of dumbass bookstore employees and why I buy my books from Amazon.com, but I’ve reached my bitch limit for the day.
Comment by Kelly — 9 June 2009, 19:49 #
The problem, I think, is that it seems that you don’t actually like any of your customer’s behavior patterns.
Most of my non-freelance writing or Web design jobs were at bookstores. I saw all the types you list here (“Do you have that one book by the guy who was on Charlie Rose last night? The blonde guy?”). Truth be told, short of the people who were complete shitheads or time-wasters (or wanted me to help them find their specific niche of “adult” novels — do they still even print Longarm books?), I had no problem with any of these people.
Bookstores are worthless as retail outlets now. Why? Because the likelihood is that you don’t have the book I want, unless I want J.K. Rowling or Alton Brown or, God help us, Dan Brown. Or a feng shui manual, or a Moleskine notebook. I can order anything from the Web usually cheaper (even with shipping).
I’m one of your “Independents” because if I walk into a bookstore, I want a book RIGHT NOW. Not three days from now. Most bookstore workers aren’t particularly knowledgeable, and I don’t see the point in you telling me the fiction book by author X is in the ‘X’ section of fiction, walking me over to the shelf, and pointing at it. I’m not retarded, thanks. I’ve figured out this whole genre/alphabetical by author thing.
As a former bookstore clerk, I know it’s pretty pointless to ask you if you can, for example, recommend good books on Welsh mythology or the best book for learning Actionscript. You don’t know. You don’t care. Even if you are perfectly happy to help me, you are useless.
So, retail fail. So what are bookstores good for? Browsing, socializing and serving as a cultural nexus for a community. We’ve never properly replicated online the experience of walking into a bookstore, picking something off the shelf, looking through it, maybe sitting down with a cup of coffee and perusing it.
Nor have we replicated the experience of hunkering down in your own section (for me, it’s usually graphic design books and comics and sci-fi/fantasy) and running into an acquaintance or friend, talking about Author X’s new one, or arguing over the merits of Author Y (“No way, dude. His stuff is weak sauce.”).
And we certainly haven’t figured out how to architect that moment when you go for the Douglas Adams novel and that incredibly cute boy or girl is reaching for the same book. (How many nerd marriages began in bookstores? I’d guess a large percentage.)
That’s what bookstores are for, and all of these goofy types you mention are part of that experience, and add to the value.
Except the people who come in looking for the red book by that one guy. Fuck those people. Jump the counter and stamp their skull against the “Twilight” dump-bin until their teeth scatter like popcorn.
Comment by Joshua Ellis — 9 June 2009, 20:02 #
Boy, all of you “when the world is populated entirely by illiterates I WILL LAUGH AN EVIL LAUGH BECAUSE YOU HAD IT COMING” types are just insanely thin-skinned, aren’t you? I bet you also read WaiterRant so you can post snidery about the stingy tip you had already planned to leave and are happy to now have “justification” for.
Me, I’ve been almost all of these customers, and I thought it was funny…
Matt, I never sold books but I worked at a Kinko’s in the early 90s and you’d be shocked how many of your taxa translate over. Although I DID keep waiting for your story about Urban Campers urinating all over themselves (and everything in radius) as they slept. Just me then? Must’ve been my lucky day…
Comment by Michelle — 9 June 2009, 20:14 #
Great post. Recognise, shamefully, a bit of myself in several. of them. The one thing I would note is that DK have a section on their website entitled ‘Coffee table travel books’ (at http://www.dorlingkindersley-uk.co.uk/nf/Search/QuickSearchProc/1,,,00.html?path=c614078%2D00000000%23%23%2D1%23%23%2D1%7E%7Ec614078%2D1156%23%239%23%23rl%7E%7Enc614078%2D1904%23%230%23%237&homeNav=&newTitle=%22Y%22). But I’m just being pedantic now. Fantastic writing!
Comment by Josh — 9 June 2009, 20:32 #
I get that this is just suppose to be “venting” but I think it’s pretty well represents why so many bookstores fail. So you’re on your feet, don’t have a desk, don’t get paid enough, etc.
You are in the service industry, that’s how it is.
People asking you to perform your job aren’t annoyances, they are paying your salary.
I frequent Book People in Austin, TX because even though I can often get the same books cheaper online I like being in a store, reading first pages and supporting local business.
A few weeks again I went in and said “Cynthia Kaplan put a new book out two months ago. I don’t remember the name.” A customer service guy (with no desk) looked up the author, found the name of the book are told me what section it was in BUT that they had a few “bargain” copies. However, bargain books are placed all over the store in endcaps etc. so HE OFFERED to hunt it down for me a page me when he found it. And he did.
It would really hurt my feelings to find him blogging about what an irritating idiot I was.
Comment by Anne Marie — 9 June 2009, 22:11 #
I thought this list was ingenious. I was a bookseller for four years and you’re classifications are spot on. Thank you. I’m sorry for all the grief you are receiving. It’s the same grief we receive as booksellers from customers. I worked very hard and learned a great deal to be the most valuable resource to a customer. Why else would you want to work at bookstore if you didn’t enjoy the challenge of solving a book question for a customer? And, I can proudly say most of my colleagues were just as well skilled. Even after dealing with the clueless customers, I held no harsh feelings toward them. And, I don’t think you’re conveying that either. They are just categories of customers and you have to handle each one a certain way in order to provide the best customer service. I hope that my appreciation will effectively negate all the rudeness that has been expressed. It’s hard for them to understand unless they were in our shoes.
Comment by former bookseller — 9 June 2009, 22:50 #
@Anne Marie:
[*ahem*] “When I am at work, I am doing my level best to provide all my customers, including the types listed above, with the best bookstore experience,
“When I am at home, writing on a blog — my personal blog, the one I built and run myself, I am free to also share my frustrations with work, including those feelings that I have to suppress while I’m in the store helping everyone, even the idiots, find the book they have in mind.”
…and you are a Seeker, not an Idiot.
And I’d encourage everyone to re-read those first 26 words that lead this comment. It’s my job. I love books, I like my job, and I know my job is customer service. I’m not calling out any customers by name, I’m just listing a few types that I’ve encountered over the past 8 years. And the list is incomplete; I said so myself in line 4 all the way at the top of the post.
So many of us live co-mingled lives, where our work, home life, and online activities mesh and blend and blur — and in blogging about the industry I’m also employed in, I’m as guilty as the rest of us. But I do not carry around a scorecard at work and tally the numbers of Grazers and Browsers I encounter each day, I help people find books. My work and my approach toward work are vastly different from the commentary I supply after a hard day and a few beers.
Comment by Matt Blind — 9 June 2009, 22:57 #
Alas, I’m not even original:
someone emailed me a link to this post on Craigslist from 2003
Comment by Matt Blind — 10 June 2009, 01:25 #
If this post is why bookstores are going out of business TODAY…well, they should have been gone a long time ago. Cranky (and observant) booksellers are something of a tradition.
Here’s George Orwell’s take on bookselling back in the 1930s. Very familiar territory.
http://www.orwell.ru/library/articles/bookshop/english/e_shop.
Comment by Rachel — 10 June 2009, 01:36 #
Absolutely astonishing. One, to hear the types I see at work every day (yes, I’m a bookstore worker too) described accurately, and two, to see that the humourless types have chosen such a vicious line of attack in responding. Don’t be an apologist, o blogger – if anyone is daft enough to assume that someone would work in a bookstore for a reason other than the love of books, said person is clearly daft enough to think that when all the bookshops are gone, s/he will still be able to get something besides Dan Brown, and is further daft enough to think that abusing the help is a basic right in a capitalist society.
All we can do is answer the questions of the actual customers who actually want the services and products we offer and try not to make the visit to the bookstore more of a negative experience for the rest. We ought not to feel guilt if, on occasion, we use our categorical knowledge of the market to share amusing rubrics we have noticed. Above all, we ought not to feel guilt at the words of those who criticise us for our irritation at being asked to take care of things that have nothing to do with books or with people who love books. I have, without shame, closed the bathroom at my shop and reserved it for staff use; I take a lot of crap (soz, puns seem to be a professional hazard) from certain customers about this; but surprise! My enthusiasm for helping you find the big green book you lost as a child (which is fun, just please be considerate of the other six people waiting with questions) is not matched by my appreciation for the janitorial opportunities you want to offer me.
One more thought, for those who think bookstore workers should be happy they aren’t in food service: when we spend an extra twenty minutes helping a challenging customer, immediately followed by performing the task of kicking out a homeless person (a lose-lose PR proposition), immediately followed by getting yelled at by four people In A Hurry, immediately followed by spending thirty minutes finding a book from a vague description only to have the customer say “$4.95?! I can probably get it for a penny on Amazon!”, followed by you telling us you think we should lose our jobs for failing to be helpful enough, we kind of wish our happy customers thought to tip us, actually. If the only buck you’re passing, though, is the responsibility to make you feel like you’re appreciated for leaving poo in our toilets, coffee cups in our arts section, and rumpled, unwrapped gift books on which we’re losing money because you decided you could damage them, kindly let the buck stop there.
Comment by Tim — 10 June 2009, 01:43 #
@Rachel:
George effin’ Orwell had a customer come into his shop in 1936 and she asked him for the book (no title, no author, but) with The Red Cover?!
(or earlier than ’36, as I’m sure he wrote the piece long afterward, looking back)
I’m most pleased to be un-original as in this case I’m in good company. (and what is it with red covers?)
Comment by Matt Blind — 10 June 2009, 01:51 #
@Tim:
Let’s not forget the vast quantities of cellophane and plastic wrap stashed behind, under, and around the Art & Photo books (or left on the floor) — because the gall of the publisher, attempting to provide a quality product to paying consumers, is erecting a barrier to the vast masses of ‘customer’ who need, I mean, absolutely need to open the book and flip through every last page before they can verify that yeah, this book isn’t for them. They had a suspicion, maybe even a conviction that they wouldn’t buy the $80 art book, but there was no way to know until they spoiled the pristine, virgin copy that we might have been able to sell to someone else.
Comment by Matt Blind — 10 June 2009, 02:02 #
I have to say, you’ve nailed it. Like you, I gave 100% of my attention and skills to the customer in front of me, and even figuring that 90%+ fall into the benign-to-good range, the doozies are memorable.
Like the guy who cussed us out for not alphabetizing the new-book display table.
And to anybody who feels the need to bitch about this blog entry: Yes, you ARE the assholes we make fun of back in the break room. Dumping the fallout of your pathetic miserable lives onto retail workers who have no choice but to stand there while you leak your bile onto them is one of the saddest displays of “power” I can imagine. Go. Away.
Comment by Jim — 10 June 2009, 04:08 #
Hi Matt —
I just stumbled upon this blog today. This post amused me very much. I found the description of the Independent particularly relatable. I definitely have those tendencies, but not just for bookstores — for all stores! I wish I could go into a Target/Sears/Staples, go to a kiosk, and search through their inventory. Find exactly what I need in exactly the right aisle. I hate talking to customer service; I feel that most of the time, they just lie to you (“it’s not in stock”) just to get you off their back.
Comment by Vi | Maximizing Utility — 10 June 2009, 09:50 #
Dude, you work in a bookstore. True, it’s obviously a big box bookstore that will hire anyone who can work a cash register and probably in some strip mall hell. But, jeesh, try roofing.
I’ve always enjoyed finding books for patrons. Sure, some people are assholes, but I’ve never found much need to complain as much as this guy.
Comment by mearls — 10 June 2009, 10:11 #
So, this must be why I can never find an employee to help me, even after 30 minutes of searching the aisles. Even though I have the title, author, and description of major genre in which the book resides, the employees are cowering in case I might be one of these categories.
GREAT.
Comment by Labradoris — 10 June 2009, 10:13 #
Matt,
I very much enjoyed your post. Your descriptions were stunningly accurate and articulate.
Then I took the time to read all the comments. It’s obvious that some people who’ve commented here have not, do not, and will not work directly with human clients or customers. Naive statements like, “Then why the hell do you work in a bookstore if you can’t be happy all the time?” and “You’re in the service industry, you deserve to be on your feet 8 hours straight!” conjure up images of spoiled, neurotic housewives and geezers much like the Time-sucks you described above. I am sorry you have to read comments like that and hope you do not pay them any heed. This is your own personal blog, and if guests can’t deal with the host then they should leave the party.
Thanks for a wonderful post!
Comment by chebitts — 10 June 2009, 11:16 #
Hilarious! And oh, so true. Thanks for posting.
Comment by ss — 10 June 2009, 11:21 #
Um, are there any customers you like?
Of course i am reminded of a quote from Ghandi on customer service:
“A customer is the most important visitor on our premises. He is not dependent on us. We are dependent on him. He is not an interruption in our work. He is the purpose of it. He is not an outsider in our business. He is part of it. We are not doing him a favor by serving him. He is doing us a favor by giving us an opportunity to do so.”
The fact is that most of the people you hate so much on that list pay your salary. Are you under the impression that your job is to fill a bookshelf? No. Your job is to sell books—to customers. A little more gratitude and a little less attitude would be appreciated.
The funniest part was when you complained about people wanting coffee table books. The fact is we all know what coffee table books are, and the fact that ya’all don’t deign to admit they are coffee table books is only proof of how far we have strayed from the principle that the customer’s always right.
I myself is am an Independant. Gee, imagine that? i don’t want to talk to an ungrateful snotnose like you.
Comment by A. W. — 10 June 2009, 12:11 #
Spot-on and great. I worked in a bookstore for ten years and busted my ass every day trying to find That One Book With The Red Cover and a million other hazily-remembered titles. Precisely because I wanted to help people, even the annoying ones. And the 10% of customers who actually understood what my job was like, and genuinely appreciated it, made my day and kept me going during the rest of the time.
The several commentators who are shocked, SHOCKED that you might not absolutely love all people all the time are hilarious, and dollars to donuts says you are poking their deeply-felt fear that They Might Not Be Perfect.
News flash! Loving all people all the time is inhuman. Dealing with normal human frustrations about temporary interpersonal and commercial relationships in the 21st-century, and still maintaining a pleasant and professional demeanor while on the job? Both human and admirable.
Comment by ksh — 10 June 2009, 12:12 #
You left out one type of customer.
I am the center of the universe.
This customer will load up a stack of books on the counter and ask to be rung up. As soon as the clerk begins ringing up the purchase, this customer will wander away and continue shopping, leaving the clerk with an unresolved transaction that he can only hope will be resolved before the next customer comes up to the register. Otherwise, the first sale will have to be cancelled and then re-rung when the customer finally comes back (generally without any additional items to purchase).
A variant on this type of customer is the one who will watch you total up his sizeable purchase and only when payment is requested ask if he can have a discount because he bought so much.
We actually do offer discounts on larger purchases at our store, but is it so hard to ask for a discount BEFORE your purchase is finalized?
Sometimes these folks will actually buy something else (in the time required to refigure their sale and fix the register data) but after getting another discount on the new items will ONLY THEN mention “Oh, by the way, I need these books shipped to my house in Alabama, is that a problem?” Well, no, we just have to zero out the sale once again and re-ring everything as NON-TAX then figure in the shipping charges.
We are a capitalist, consumer/consumption-based service economy. I do wish everyone were required to spend some time working retail, just so they would have a clue about the world they live in.
Comment by einstein43 — 10 June 2009, 13:26 #
I worked in a B&N for about a year. The biggest customer-problem type I faced were the people who camped out. I hated them. Other customers hated them.
They blocked shelves people wanted to look at, treated the books poorly (had a few instances where a nice, paying customer wanted a book but once we found it, it had been pawed to death and was in a state it couldn’t be sold). Etc. Etc. Etc.
For the life of me I could never understand why B&N allowed their stores to be treated like bus stations. I was just in one last night and got so frustrated trying to navigate over the people sprawled out between the aisles that I gave up and ordered my book from Amazon.
My point is just that — this little seed of hostility spread throughout the store and made dealing with customers of any type more unpleasant than need be. Which is too bad.
Comment by frank — 10 June 2009, 13:32 #
You left out an 8th category of customer.
Pickup artists
You know, the folks who aren’t really interested in finding a book, but rather finding someone to hook up with. They can be found trying to strike up conversations in most parts of the bookstore, except 2 – the children’s area (they want women with no baggage) and the sex area (they don’t want to seem creepy). Really desperate pickup artists will cruise the self-help section for vulnerable women.
Some bookstores cater to these types. Why else would they stay open so late on weekends?
Comment by Aretino — 10 June 2009, 13:58 #
Ah, don’t feel too bad, Matt. Anybody who has worked retail can sympathize with you. It is often a thankless job, and customers can be remarkably rude and ignorant. The people who are getting all huffy at this post are probably seeing themselves in it.
I will say, however, that I hate the shrink-wrapping of books. I’m a firm believer in never judging a book by its cover, and I mean that in the most literal sense. If I can’t flip through the book and skim it, I’m not buying it. It’s not your fault, and I won’t unwrap books because I know it makes life hard on the staff, but I just won’t buy them.
Comment by Will — 10 June 2009, 13:58 #
To A.W.,
Funny how you invaded Matt’s personal blog and then proceeded to demand that he bow down and kiss your feet because somehow you’re personally and magically paying his salary all by your lonesome.
And “the customer is always right” is an antiquated term that no longer works. I believe nowadays they’re teaching, “the customer is wrong with dignity.” Seriously, I was taught that once at a customer service seminar during orientation.
Comment by chebitts — 10 June 2009, 14:10 #
I thought this was clever, well-written, funny and understandably a little snide. I have worked in publishing for over 15 years, and I love books. I LOVE bookstores. I’m unemployed now and would get a job at a bookstore in a heartbeat (if they were hiring), if I thought that it wouldn’t ruin my love affair with the place. I have worked in retail before and dealt with enough bull to know that I don’t want to ruin the complete sense of peace that comes over me when I walk into any edifice filled with books that I can access – whether it’s a library or a store. I think the negative commenters to this post have never worked in a service position in their life (yes, that’s a generalization and just as bad as their comments). Maybe they should try it for a while, then they would understand why (underpaid) customer service people trade horror stories, and why this is so funny and very companionable. I wish I could say that bookstores will never go out of business – but at least I hope it’s after I’m dead and gone.
Comment by Linda — 10 June 2009, 14:21 #
I categorize myself as an Independent because I think bookstore salespeople are judging my choices and making fun of me. Apparently, my paranoia is justified. Thanks!
Comment by Roy — 10 June 2009, 14:24 #
I love bookstores, and this is a great post. The category that best describes me often depends on circumstances (most usually Browser, with some Seeking tendencies that are counteracted by a strong Independent streak.)
As to the comments, front line customer service with the general public is frustration-dominated: 90% of your time, not to mention mental and emotional energies, are consumed by the worst 10% of your customers. The better you are at your job, the more this becomes true (since if you become a supervisor or manager, you’ll generally be called upon not for polite conversations with friendly customers, but to try and get screaming psychopaths to leave quietly without having to call security.)
Venting about these people is a necessary pressure release valve for those of us who work in such jobs. If as a member of the general public you feel obliged to react forcefully to this clearly satirical commentary, either you are extremely overly sensitive, or you are in fact one of the jerk customers who needs learn that paying $5 for some retail product or service does not buy you license to ignore the rules of civil human behaviour.
The customer is not always right. To assume otherwise is not only clearly illogical; it is bad business sense – bad customers waste precious resources, far more than the cash value of what they spend; it is terrible for employee morale – the implied converse is “the service staff are always wrong”, which is to say incompetent, and stupid; and it is even bad for most customers – because, the time and patience (yes, this is a finite resource!) I spend placating one seriously nasty idiot could have been used to make 20 other people’s day substantially better.
Customers don’t pay my wages. Payroll does. Customers pay for a product, and receive it. This is called business. It is a mutually beneficial commercial arrangement. So if you are one of those minority but still-painfully-common bad customers, please feel free to get out of my place of work and go and waste somebody else’s time. It is a (relatively) free market – and just as you can exercise your right to go to spend your cash at a competitor, you should bear in mind there are plenty of other customers out there willing to hand over money without acting like Genghis Khan throwing a temper tantrum.
Comment by Jordan — 10 June 2009, 14:25 #
I generally avoid bookstores because so many people who work in them hate their jobs.
Comment by john — 10 June 2009, 14:33 #
I thought your description of Independents was telling, given how much you seem to hate everyone else in the store.
“In other words, they want a bookseller, but they don’t want any of that messy human contact. And they want an online sales site, but they prefer to drive out to a retail location, as opposed to the convenience of using a website at home.
Yeah, I don’t understand it either.”
As A.W. put it a few comments above me, I think it’s pretty obvious why I’m an “Independent” at most bookstores.
I appreciate that you’re venting, but you just come off like a whiner who doesn’t have much to complain about (except for the homeless people—my heart goes out to you there). You just sound really unplesant, and then you have the nerve to get offended when people say you seem like an unpleasant person. Sorry man.
Comment by acls — 10 June 2009, 15:19 #
So you don’t like the customers who require your assistance and you don’t like the customers who prefer to do it themselves?
Who’s left? The ones who never enter your store?
Comment by Irving — 10 June 2009, 15:50 #
I feel like most of the people here who are being rude and irritating, are the types of customers listed above. I don’t really understand why people are offended by this. Like none of you people ever complain about anything in your whole life? You’re soooo understanding and awesome and, on top of all that you love your job? Please. It’s good fun, and, as a former Borders Supervisor, incredibly accurate and funny. I guess I just don’t understand why you would say anything at all unless it was something nice. It’s not like he’s preaching hate, just being funny! Lighten up folks!
Comment by Beans — 10 June 2009, 15:56 #
I have to admit to being an Camper/Internet Hobo, and a Browser, though I generally buy books too because I like to buy books. Of course, since I am an author and cannot get anything done at home, due to elderly parents always wanting my time and attention, I find the bookstore a good place to write.
Music, I bring my own, but with headsets.
In addition, I am a librarian, and many of the types (okay ALL of the types) you describe are Our Patrons. ;-)
Comment by Laura J. Underwood — 10 June 2009, 16:14 #
Those mentioning “the customer is always right” ignore an important point: a lot of these annoying “customers” aren’t customers. They’re freeloaders of one kind of another.
I do think that it would make a lot of sense for a national bookstore chain to keep track of, and have available on their computer system, the books mentioned on NPR and the above mentioned TV networks/shows. The clerk can’t do this, but to do it once nationally wouldn’t be all that much effort at all.
Customers are also not at fault for not understanding the way a particular store’s register works; that discounts can only be applied at the start of the transaction, not the end, is a deficiency in the system that a customer would have no way of knowing.
As a customer, I get very sick of bookstores being so crammed full of freeloaders that they get in the way of those actually trying to pay for things. Especially the students taking up all the tables in the cafe to do their homework on, using the place as a library, not paying for the books they’re using, and looking daggers at anyone who, heavens forbid, talks too loudly.
Comment by Matthew J Brown — 10 June 2009, 16:50 #
I think you got it right on in some places!
I worked at a big box bookstore for a little over two years.
One of my proudest moments was when a customer said, “I’m looking for a book…you know the one…it’s blue… with the rabbit.”
And I actually knew which book she meant!
Like any service jobs, there are fantastic days and not-as-fantastic days. Overall I had a lot of fun and enjoyed the work.
Comment by juliana — 10 June 2009, 17:01 #
Wow, it sounds like you work in retail. Selling stuff. To people.
Comment by bridgecross — 10 June 2009, 17:23 #
I absolutely love your characterizations. I am going to print out your post and put it in our breakroom for my coworkers to read.
Let me follow by saying I work in a large bookstore, and have for more than 10 years. I love my job, or I wouldn’t still be there. That being said, there are times when I want to go into the back and beat my head against a wall, because it would feel better than dealing with some of the people I deal with. Eh, it’s part of the job, I know. But if you don’t vent somehow, somewhere, you’ll end up with an ulcer, a heart attack, or a nervous breakdown.
My “specialties” are kids books and romance. I love helping customers find what they are looking for anywhere in the store, but these are my first loves. Helping that grandma find a book for that grandchild she doesn’t see often, or recommending a new author for a romance reader is very satisfying.
When I first started, we would typically have at least 4 booksellers, a cashier, and a couple managers on duty during even the slow times. During busy hours, add a couple more booksellers and cashiers. Those were the days when you could spend 20 minutes helping a customer track down that book. Now, we have 1 cashier, 1 seller and 1 manager most weekdays, maybe 2 sellers after noon. This is because our hours have been slashed to the point that we’re lucky if we can spend 2 minutes with a customer without having 4 others interrupting us. We would love to have the time to give perfect service to all our customers – even the “challenges”. For the foreseeable future, I don’t see it happening.
Regarding “unique” customers: I had a friend who had been a bookseller. She had a customer who had just returned from a trip to California. This woman came in raving about a cookbook she had seen there. No, she couldn’t remember title or author. But it was full of these great recipes from along the east coast of California. Yes, that’s right, the EAST coast of California. Yes, ma’am, you do realize that the east coast of California is called Nevada, right? (Insert previously mentioned trip to back room here).
And don’t forget the customer who can’t stop talking on their cellphone long enough for you to ring them up. Or worse, the one chitchatting on their phone while you’re trying to help them find something. I’d love to be able to tell them “Look, you’re obviously busy with your conversation. I’ll be glad to help you when you’re done. In the meantime, I’m going to help the other 3 people that are waiting, and you can move to the end of the line.”
Fortunately, I find that the number of good customers far outnumbers the bad ones. It’s just that the bad ones tend to make a bigger impression.
So, thank you, Matt for brightening my day!
Comment by Susan — 10 June 2009, 18:21 #
I do the night shift at a small store in the busiest train station in America. I’m snide, openly condescending, rarely speak in vibrato, and snap at you when you interrupt my personal reading which constitutes the bulk of the hours I spend in-store. I judge your purchases, sometimes aloud. If I’m in the middle of a rush of customers (yes, even after midnight there are buying frenzies) and can’t get back to my book, I make sure to position my book in a way that allows you to see the title. If you’re a discerning customer, you might see the title and say, e.g. “Pynchon? Wow! You read that stuff?” And I applaud myself, sometimes aloud. Every chance I get I make sure to remind you that I am only an overeducated rookie college grad who’d rather work in an office and for reasons possibly relating to blatant nepotism and to fear of corporations cannot work in an office but who nevertheless is quite a Serious Reader, and not the clerk of a bookstore that’s rank with homeless smegma and dead rat and Patterson pulp.
You will hate me without reservations and demand to know why I’m even in the service industry if I’m gonna be such a bastard about the whole thing. (See above.)
If you catch me on a good night, in which I might be feeling the effects of a few furtive nips of rum and which I won’t feel guilty about since a large percentage of late-night clientele are drunks, I’ll be good customer service personified.
The point is that I side with the blogger and I side with the irate customer-commenters: I get you. I understand hating people shitty at consuming and hating people shitty at enabling consumption. But this refers to a larger problem within our culture, and within me. It’s gonna take a while to fix, so just go easy.
Thanks for letting me contribute my thoughts on this which’ve been roiling around my brain for months and have not until now had a chance for public appraisal.
Comment by Genius — 10 June 2009, 19:47 #
Used to work at a bookstore, way to speak the truth. Hate mangacows, stubbed my toe more times than I care to think.
Comment by kamlin98 — 10 June 2009, 20:25 #
Outstanding.
Worked in an independent bookstore in the early 90’s and the manager had, what I thought to be, a great answer to the “customers are our lifeblood” vs. “the public really sucks” debate.
We all maintained our genuine cheeriness and kept a clipboard at the info desk to “jot down customer requests that we don’t have, but really should.” As you can guess, it was really just so we could keep a private running list of the choicest stupidity. A dramatic reading was the best part of our annual Christmas parties.
One disgusting oversight to your list would be the Cootie Pooter who sneaks a pile of books or magazines into the bathroom to peruse and totally germ-up while pooping.
Never got the red book question, but I do recall a sadly earnest woman looking for a gift for her incarcerated son: “It’s green and had a man’s face on the cover… You know, it would appeal to someone in prison!”
Of course, I reached for the clipboard when a man asked for “that white book with the bones on the cover” only to have my colleague know exactly the book: the then-newly released Jurassic Park! Take THAT online snobs, maybe just maybe, that hipster knows EXACTLY what you’re looking for.
Comment by MFS — 10 June 2009, 21:14 #
All of you people with your bullshit reasons why you buy from Amazon. You buy from Amazon because you’re CHEAP.
You’ll appreciate Borders & Barnes & Noble only when they’re gone.
Comment by whosonfirst — 10 June 2009, 21:37 #
##
Thank you all for your comments, particularly my fellow booksellers (and the folks with a sense of humor).
And yes, even if you think I’m awful and it’s incredible they still let me work my crummy retail job since I’m obviously an awful human being and hateful toward my customers:
“If you ever find some additional details on that one book you were looking for, or if you’d like to order some of the titles we could find today, please call us here at the store. We can do searches and even take your order over the phone — or you can order it yourself; our store has a website. Here, let me write the web address on the back of one of our business cards, that way you’ll also have our phone number.”
— even a no doesn’t mean a no, or the end of the customer relationship.
And thank you, Everyone, for leaving a comment. Your suggestions will be considered in the spirit in which you offered them.
This post obviously is making the rounds. I may eventually have to close the comments (I might wait until we hit 120, 150, something like that) but until then please share. Even if all you can do is complain. ;)
##
Comment by Matt Blind — 10 June 2009, 22:22 #
Being a bookseller for five years, this is so spot on that it’s almost sickening.
Comment by okayali — 10 June 2009, 23:32 #
If you don’t like working at a bookstore, or customer service, do something else.
Wait, you don’t have skills the marketplace values, better than working in a bookstore?
I ceased working in restaurants and retail at age 18 because I had higher value skills that the marketplace wanted.
I never go to bookstores or hardly any retail stores any more.
Salespeople with a superior or condescending attitude are the worst. It’s totally inappropriate given their place in the food chain.
Comment by kentuckyliz — 10 June 2009, 23:39 #
@kentuckyliz:
And who says my skills, uniquely suited to answering questions about books, are of lesser value? Reference Librarians have graduate degrees — alas I can’t command their salary but am expected to perform the same tasks because I work in a bookstore and it’s ‘customer service’.
And since I just answered this in the next post over, I have to thank you for providing the opportunity to re-post the exact same comment here:
I Love Books. My employer provides me with a very nice discount. Given that, I really like my job.
Since I Love Books, I also like talking about books, and talking about what I’m reading, or what you’re reading (or what Oprah’s reading, for that matter)
And since I Love Books — and I love a wide range of books, across many subjects — I don’t necessarily get the ‘no, only this book will do’ mentality. Surely, out of the hundred thousand different titles we have in stock, there is some acceptable substitute? Or if you must have that book, and since you already know where our store is located, can I order that for you? That’s what you want me to do, right? Get you a book? That’s why you’re asking me, at the desk, for a book?
— If I come off as hostile, or hateful to my customers, it’s not so much that I don’t want you to have your book. I very much do want to sell you a book.
Go back and re-read both posts. My bile and vinegar are not a reaction to the customers who buy books, my worst comments are directed at those who do not buy, who never buy, who rebuff my efforts to help…
OK, there are also those who want a book but can’t tell me which book; that’s just annoying and I can only play ‘guess that book’ for so many hours a day.
Anyway… it’s not that I hate people who buy books. I hate people who keep me from selling books. Either because they waste my time, refuse my help, drain me of any and all resources to discover a book so they can then order it online — or who, through their behavior, make the shopping experience intolerable for paying customers.
That’s where I’m coming from. There’s the source of my umbrage. So there.
[and I hope the fine folks who’ve commented on Metafilter also read this comment, as it diffuses many of their spiked comments as well. Alas, I will not pay the $5 to go over there and respond directly]
Comment by Matt Blind — 10 June 2009, 23:59 #
I think it’s a shock for a lot of retail customers who’ve never worked retail themselves to hear that the cheerful, friendly salespeople at their favorite store don’t actually care about them, or feel disdain for them, or possibly actively loathe them. And when they find out for the first time, or are reminded of it subsequently, their defensiveness is palpable.
Ignore the haters; what you’re writing is truth.
Comment by yesindeed — 11 June 2009, 01:19 #
Why does a person working at a bookstore care about margins? You get no stake in profits. Maybe your store stays open. Maybe focus on doing your job and not imagining that as you are stocking shelves that you are a social commentator or business analyst.
Comment by Stink bandit — 11 June 2009, 02:33 #
@Stink Bandit:
Yeah, sure, if I were just another drone or a zombie working in a fast food establishment I wouldn’t care about profit margins, or where the product comes from, or if my chosen industry has a future.
WHEN I GET HOME, even if I didn’t dream of owning my own store someday, I might be tempted to ruminate on the nature of work, and of my chosen career, and how my store could be expected to perform this year, and next, and into the future.
And while I’m stocking shelves, I’m stocking shelves. Plenty to think on there in the midst of that process. Shelving takes up at most an hour of my day, how should I spend the other seven, praytell?
Just because you think I should be a content retail robot, Happy To Have Your Business And Thank You, Sir! that doesn’t mean I’m willing to staple my brain to make you feel better.
I care about profits, and margins. Actually, this kind of exercise helps me do my job. And you’re not analyzing the business (so far as I know) so if I want to spend my time doing so — kindly back off. If I chose to waste ten hours a week in research in the publishing and book retail industries, this hurts you how?
Sit down. Shut up. And enjoy the reports. And if you don’t have anything more material to contribute: why are you wasting my time?
Comment by Matt Blind — 11 June 2009, 02:53 #
This one’s especially for Clint, paulski, Roy, Stink bandit et al who are so outraged that people in service industries may occasionally find you pathetic – many thanks for opening up about those views with such gusto on here, so that complete strangers like me, randonly browsing the internet, can ALSO have a good chuckle at your pompous sense of entitlement!
Oh, and Matt you did miss out the, well, let’s call them stink bandits – you know the sort, come into the store on a cold winter’s day when the heating’s on full, and you don’t want to leave the doors open, they let rip a big guff of botty burp, them proceed happily deflated on their way…
Comment by Charlie — 11 June 2009, 04:55 #
I work in a bookstore and I agree with these points, however I’ll don’t really agree with your sadonic attitude – although it does make the article more amusing. I love the customers that come in knowing just enough for me to look impressive when I figure out what they’re looking for, I love helping customers find gifts and I enjoy talking about books all day long.
What I don’t like, is the customers that seem to come in merely to pick holes in your store. They wander in, browse for hours and then comment that “the bookstore down the road has it cheaper” or “your shelves are too low” or “why don’t you have somewhere to sit” to which you just want to say “well if you hate the place so much, why don’t you shop somewhere else?” Then again, they probably do that everywhere they go.
So if you want friendly, reliable service to find that book you require, come visit me ^~ I’m almost always happy to help as long as you don’t complain about things I can’t control.
Kat
Comment by lemurkat — 11 June 2009, 05:55 #
Maybe it’s just because I live in Australia and not only are books amazingly EXPENSIVE, but bookstores out in my area rare, but I find it helpful to be nice to the staff (and people in general) on the rare occasion I need to ask for help.
I’m also a bit baffled by the cafes in bookshops, seats in bookshops and general camping out in bookshops. But that could just be me. My town doesn’t have a bookshop, so I only get to go a few times a year but when I’m there I can usually find what I want, have a poke around in a nice, orderly, quiet manner and be happy. Sometimes I even help other customers because I love books and know my way around bookshops(and libraries, for that matter)in my sleep. I don’t get paid, and most people are nice. But not always, and I do understand (and am amused by) posts like this on the internet.
I love to buy in bookstores, and often do. It just means I can’t buy a lot of my most wanted books right away. Or I have to try the news agent (an iffy option, at best.)
I certainly don’t understand the aptitude problems of some of these commenters, though. It seems excessive or overly defensive.
Comment by Steph — 11 June 2009, 07:22 #
Er, that was meant to be attitude problems. stupid Firefox. Sorry!
Comment by Steph — 11 June 2009, 07:24 #
Okay, so I know now what irritates a bookseller, but I’m not sure what I should be in order to be completely innocuous while I’m visiting a bookstore. Except to be a “browser” who doesn’t like cats.
Suggestions:
1) Get rid of the easy chairs. Libraries don’t need them and neither do you. The person at Corporate who thought of this “service” may never have been a bookseller.
2) Wooden chairs and tables are fine, in limited numbers, with suggestions that people move along every 15 minutes or so.
That’d be enought to move me along, anyway.
3) “No solicitation for business or professional advice on our premises please.”
This seems to work at health clubs for wannabe personal trainers. You don’t need those “customers,” even if they do drink latte’.
4) I don’t see anything rude about, “Please, madam, I need a title or an author, preferably both. Publication dates are optional. We have lots of red books here that you’ll love. Otherwise, I’m sure the commercial will air again soon.”
Seems to me
5) customers should be able to tell when they are being rude. Stupidity is not a virtue; neither is tolerance thereof. Toilet services are not free to the business. Neither is the spread of disease. Too much tolerance costs you real buyers.
6) Instead of one of those easy chairs, get a reshelving rack for us to put our discards on when we check out. (Maybe you have one and I don’t see it anywhere…) You may need a high school track runner to keep it cleared, but that’s why we have track teams in schools, right? And I’ll promise never to put a book down in the wrong place again if I decide not to buy it.
7) And those kids should never be allowed to tear a book w/o being exacted a cost. Probably there are too few of you clerks to keep the vandals in check. We should make them go out for track!
8) Please don’t give up on the business. Everyone knows where the bookstores are, even in small towns, and we all love them, cafe’ or nay.
And I promise not to sleep at the tables. ;-)
Comment by ThePhys2001 — 11 June 2009, 10:04 #
At least Amazon categorized their books as Coffee Table Books — they have 8773 in their books department.
Comment by Jukka Heikka — 11 June 2009, 10:13 #
My background is in the library world, and once upon a time I worked in a (large, chain) bookstore. You hit the nail on the head and a LOT of these types also exist in the public library. The urban campers and the idiots (I want a book, it’s red and about this big, no I don’t remember the author, title or even what it was about!) are renowned in the public library world. They are common features in various library rant places on the net.
You left off one taxa I saw in the bookstore (to my shock)
Parent of a student — my son/daughter has to do a report on trees/civil war/President Lincoln/fill in the subject. Where can I find those books? — mind you they bought 2-3 books, which was good for the bookstore. But dude have you never heard of a library? I suspect that the teacher is expecting your son/daughter to be finding and picking out the books for that report!
BTW, you have hit Metafilter :)
Comment by librarygeek — 11 June 2009, 11:19 #
Speaking as a collector of Jamaican music, with more than 1000 cds, I can tell you that in fact new Bob Marley albums are coming out all the time. Obviously the music isn’t newly recorded – it’s just repackaged in various combinations. It keeps on selling, so they keep on repackaging it.
Comment by wonderclock — 11 June 2009, 12:27 #
I thought this was hilarious (including the comment @21).
However, I’ll say that I shop like an independent at my local bookstore because I don’t need the help, but I also don’t want to send my $$ out of my community. :)
Comment by anna — 11 June 2009, 13:24 #
“You buy from Amazon because you’re CHEAP.
You’ll appreciate Borders & Barnes & Noble only when they’re gone.”, says whosonfirst
Actually, no. Listen to me, for I am a book customer from the future! (well, the future of B&N/Borders anyway)
I used to be at least half of the 7 customer types all at once, stopping in to our local big box bookstore and selecting interesting titles from the sections I enjoy, and often getting a coffee in the process. No, you can’t help me, because I don’t have a specific book in mind half the time.
Then I moved to a rural area. I’m an hour drive away from a shitty store with “Borders” in the name (Borders Express).
The non-fiction science and math books I enjoy may have high margins, but they also have low demand, and arn’t well stocked outside Cities With Tech Workers.
My local independent booksellers cater to the Beach Book, Oprah Book Club, and Left Behind readers. Their tech section might have an old copy of Windows 95 for Dummies and a fine selection of remedial high school algebra books. It’s not their fault, it’s all that will sell.
So, I turned to Amazon. I missed not being able to flip through the book, and they added “see some pages” to their site. I really missed not being able to have it RIGHT NOW, but I got over it. They consistently have books on my doorstep in two days, and they have the title I want.
I make my own coffee. (The margins are indeed fantastic!)
It’s fine. It certainly hasn’t diminshed the quantity of books coming in; if anything it’s increased the volume. Amazon does a great job with the “you might also like…” upsell, and it only gets better as their database learns what you’ve already bought.
It’s your local librarian, for introverts.
When I miss the bookstore experience, I drive out to a used and rare book dealer, which is what bookstores are going to become, if they stay in business. The ones that have coffee sell me coffee and quaint, musty old books on topics I hadn’t thought of.
Borders and B&N? Yeah, they were okay. Some independents were larger and better in the early days before and just after the dot com boom. They’re gone, and B/B&N will follow or adapt. (To some extent, B&N already figured out how to turn their storefronts into walk-in depots for their website with coffee. good on them for that.)
Comment by emf — 11 June 2009, 15:56 #
@kentuckyliz “given their place on the food chain.“
You, my dear, are precisely the reason that people in service positions feel the need to rant. You assume that because circumstance or choice has placed us in a service position, that we are somehow your social inferiors.
I was a bookseller by choice for almost nine years, because I loved selling books. By day, I’m an attorney, and make a fairly decent living. When people like you treated me with the condescending, superior attitude you display in your post, I would laugh silently to myself, and pity you – because I knew that you needed to feel superior to me. You needed to know that no matter how fucked up your life might be, at least you weren’t, shudder, a retail worker.
The statements by all of the people who claim they will never shop in bookstores again because of this post are absurd. Do you think the people at Amazon don’t hate you? Do you think Rajesh in Lahore, answering your customer service inquiry, doesn’t hate you? I assure you he does. So does your waiter, your supermarket checker, your bankteller, the department store clerk, and every other service person at whom you sneer. They get paid to be nice to you. They don’t get paid to actually like you.
Comment by ereshkigal — 11 June 2009, 16:59 #
@Mr. Blind,
Matt, I used to work at a video store, so I am only too familiar with your customer types.
I am also a book-junkie, hanging out in libraries and bookstores sometimes for hours a day (I’m usually a grazer, browser, and totally a camper, but I do usually buy something and I’ve gone hours on nothing but coffee and tea)
I want to say, that I understood you were not trying to bash people. And I do understand that there are a—-hole customers. Just as there are a—-hole bookstore staffers.
You sound like one who tries to do their best. And I appreciate that.
Comment by Bill — 11 June 2009, 18:07 #
Wow…to be fair I did laugh at some of these characterisations. HOWEVER, there are some great customers out there!
Disclaimer before I go any further – I own a small (really small) independent bookstore just outside Baltimore.
We try to stock what people want but we need to talk to the customer to find out what they want. Most people are delighted to talk about their favorite book — even if the last time they read, it was years ago. We talk about movies and which books they were based on (some folks are surprised at what was a book first).
A lot of my customers get involved in other customer’s discussions – especially if they hear me recommending a book they like too. So we get this great synergy of group-recommendations. I just tried to talk a vampire-lit lover into trying zombies (they’re the new vampires) while two other customers were trotting out about 3 other vampire series the new customer just HAD to read. Eh. Zombies 0, Vampires, 87654321. Again.
Anyway, back to my point. You can’t have these kind of conversations on Amazon. You have to go to the bookstore, whether it’s an Indie or not. Sometimes you can have the conversation in a library but it depends on how quiet they try to keep it.
Comment by Lauretta — 11 June 2009, 18:15 #
It’s really fascinating just how snobby and condescending all of these angry commenters sound. Especially that “food chain” comment. I mean… wow. That’s just amazing.
99% of the employed population dislikes certain aspects of their jobs. And we all have an equal right to rant about those aspects. Most of the time, in retail, difficult customers make the job imperfect. Find me one retail worker who hasn’t complained about a nasty customer, and I’ll show you a liar. If you’re so worried that you’re the kind of customer Matt is talking about, then all you have to do it BE NICE to your bookseller. Even if you’re asking for The Red Book, if you’re polite and understanding, we’ll love you. But a big chunk of the time, these customers are snide and expect us to work miracles for them. Probably because we’re “lower on the food chain.” And these are the customers that remain stuck in our memories long after we’ve clocked out.
Comment by Zach — 11 June 2009, 18:27 #
I’m a browser. I also read while there but almost always buy the book i was reading (no not a new one off the shelf the actual one i’d been reading almost the entire time i was there)
I mainly go to bookstores to kill time in between something else. I try my best not to enter a book store with lots of money because I will spend it all there.
No one should take offense to you stating your opinion after a hard day at work.
Comment by Lexy — 11 June 2009, 18:43 #
@Kentucky Liz
—It’s totally inappropriate given their place in the food chain.—
Um….just who the —— do you THINK you are???
I’ve worked with and been helped by folks in every conceivable retail service in these United States of America, and many of them are more competent, erudite, and competent than anybody else I know.
Please, get a life and get over yourself.
Comment by Bill — 11 June 2009, 18:58 #
I work in the cafe at a bookstore. I’m very familiar with many of these customer types. Most of these people don’t give the cafe too much hell. Seriously a little common sense can go a long way when dealing with people in the service industry. I recommend remembering they are people. I would direct that mainly at kentuckyliz. You sound like an asshole of a customer. I probably sent bad karma thoughts into your coffee, but I delivered it with a smile. Grow up and get off your high horse.
Comment by Arana — 11 June 2009, 21:45 #
Will you marry me?
Okay, so that’s a bit drastic, but you are quite funny. And you’ve definitely hit the proverbial nail, head, etc.
Keep up the hilarity.
Comment by Machia — 11 June 2009, 22:11 #
I have never worked retail but I do hang out at bookstores (usually browser or camper, but I do buy coffee and croissants!) and I recognize all these types.
I also notice that all the bookstore workers commenting loved your post, so the hell with the offended customers. They’re on your blog not in your store.
Comment by Yehudit — 11 June 2009, 23:04 #
Hmm, some people don’t seem to grasp the tone of sardonic humour in this post. I thought it was very funny; as a librarian, I agree with the other commenters that these ‘types’ are found extensively in the library world as well. Sometimes you just need to vent.
Comment by Mel — 12 June 2009, 00:29 #
I work in a used bookstore and I like my job. (And my customers.) I actually enjoy it when somebody comes in with the color of the cover of the book they want and I can draw the information out of them and BLOW THEIR MINDS by figuring out what they’re looking for- ‘cause they do know more than they think they do. Every time.
I feel bad that your experience with Borders or Barnes & Noble or whichever gets generalized into the experience of working in every bookstore, because once you get out of the ‘ridiculous corporate business model with stupid ideas passed down from upper management who’ve never spent more than twenty minutes reading a book’ framework, things are way better. You’re not talking about all bookstores! You’re talking about- pardon the generalization- <i>shitty</i> bookstores.
I blame capitalism.
Comment by imogen — 12 June 2009, 15:56 #
Oh, I remember the days working in a book store. I loved the customers who asked me if I worked there while I carried three cash tills through the store from the register to the office. How sweetly they asked. And if perhaps, no, I did not work there, I was merely robbing the place, what would they do then? But, yes, I did work there, but with three cash tills weighing me down and all the money ready to scatter, could you possibly ask another clerk to help you? Oy. But now I work in publishing and you know who might have even dumber questions than our customers? Our authors. One day I will write a blog about all the absolutely stupid things authors say and do. They may be able to turn a phrase or be an expert on why we need to know the weight of stars, but they cannot for the life of them figure out why I can’t change a bad review into a good one.
Comment by DS — 12 June 2009, 16:38 #
I worked in a “Big Box” bookstore for 5 years & I have to say, you totally nailed it right on the head. Thanks for making me laugh!
Comment by Brs — 13 June 2009, 12:06 #
Great post. I work at a big chain bookstore and this is scary spot on.
To all those negatively commenting here, you have either never worked retail or are one of these ‘types’ of shoppers. You love to mention how we should appreciate our jobs and treat customers perfectly but you fail to remember that you should behave like decent human beings and have some respect for someone who’s there to help you…someone probably making minimum wage who’s been on their feet all day long…AND please remember you are probably the 50th person who’s asked the same type of question that day. You’re dealing with your first (and possibly only) bookseller that day. You’re probably our 50th customer that hour.
Respect goes both ways.
Oh, and try not to wait till 5 minutes before closing before coming in to shop. Really, who needs a book that badly at 10:55 at night?
Comment by SusanH — 13 June 2009, 14:36 #
Gee – I would think that any bookstore worth its salt and especially an independent bookstore would have an account with booksinprint.com – where you can actually search for books reviewed on NPR, BBC Radio, and about 100 other media outlets.
This reads like the author would be happiest if no one came into the bookstore ever…
Comment by Brandon — 13 June 2009, 22:29 #
I’ve worked at a bookstore for 7 years.
This could have been a lot meaner, but really anywhere in Retail customers are customers, and you just hope that maybe, someday, all the customers will be like the nice ones, and the 70 percent who make you hate your job (which you would otherwise LOVE) will go shop at Walmart/Kmart or wherever they can get the book “cheaper” because they can’t believe “in this economy they would have to pay FULL price for a book.”
This is sadly becoming the rule:
Customer: I need the new book by Mark Levine.
Me: Liberty and Tyranny?
Customer: No. LE-VIIIINE
Me: It’s called Liberty and Tyranny. We have it politics , follow me.
Customer: Can you just bring it to the cafe? I want to get a coffee.
(seriously?)
Comment by Ann — 14 June 2009, 00:16 #
Wow! Great post, Matt! Having worked in a bookstore and library, this was both accurate and amusing.
One other customer type I remember from a mall-chain bookstore back in the 80s is one I’ll call “The Owner”. I suppose this is a subset of The Seeker, but I think they deserve their own special place in he-…. category. These were usually female, older, and rich, judging from the display of jewelry, expensive clothes, and facelifts.
Typically, they would either flag down the first employee they came in contact with or make their way back to the customer service desk and hand the poor lackey “the list”. This was a hand-scrawled list of the books they needed, and the implication was that they would wait there (not too long, mind you) while you hoofed it all over the store and retrieved these titles. Usually you then had to carry the books to the cashier for them as THEY weren’t about to put down their Gucci bag and pick up anything. Christmas time was the worst, as the lists were long and the store very busy.
Any attempt to encourage the OWNER to find anything herself (“Well this is a mystery, so it should be right over there on that wall, under C for Christie”) was met with obstinance and imperiousness. Trying to help someone else before the list was finished was also discouraged. I remember the worst fixing me with a haughty stare for several seconds, followed by “Get them please”. See, they were absolutely sure they owned the store (or maybe even the mall) and would simply have you fired if you didn’t do what they wanted.
I sometimes wondered if they did the same at the grocery store. “Here is my list — please wheel the cart around and come find me when it’s full.”
Ma’am when I figure out which Mercedes out in the lot is yours, I’m going to key the f*** out of it!
And to all the commenters who are shocked (SHOCKED!) that Matt has anything to express but genuine delight for all his customers, I have to ask, “Are you human?” Who doesn’t enjoy making some expression of frustration with the people they work with? Have they never had a drink with co-workers after work and commiserated about having to put up with ____ (insert name of most annoying coworker or customer)? Have they never seen Office Space or Clerks? Get a life and leave Matt alone!
Comment by BSR — 14 June 2009, 11:08 #
Well, I can solve a few of your problems, Grazer/Browser/Camper that I am: I’ll just buy my books at Amazon.com rather than troubling you any further.
Comment by Terry — 14 June 2009, 13:25 #
Please, help this poor bookseller to have a better life: buy at Amazon.
Once jobless you meet with less customers, sorry, I mean idiots.
Comment by ortega — 14 June 2009, 16:00 #
I’m surprised at how offend a lot of people are on here. Any job I’ve worked, or a friend has worked has been the same way. The customer is nearly always wrong, but you tell them they are right. Haven’t you guys ever had the one customer that made you want to bang your head repeatedly on a wall?
Just treat everyone with respect. I’m nice to you, why can’t you hang up your cell phone and be nice to me?
Personally I’m an independent. I either come knowing exactly what I what or why type of book I’m looking for. A timid creature when I’m not working, I tend to shy away from employees.
Comment by Arana — 14 June 2009, 16:17 #
My response to many of your comments has recently posted to the main page.
Feel free to comment here anyway. I can close the comments on this post at any time, but all commentors to date have been constructive, for the most part, and the net response is neutral — or slightly positive.
If you think I’m an idiot, or a bastard, please say so; my one complaint is that so many, instead of attacking me personally, choose to take my comments as an excuse to go after all booksellers, and the industry:
Since when am I a spokesman for a $25 billion dollar industry? Take your head out of your ass, exchange insults with me, and then figure out what your relationship is with your local bookseller.
If my snark and bile was all it took to ‘push’ you to online purchases, I’d say you were already there, and were feeling guilty, and wanted an excuse.
Comment by Matt Blind — 14 June 2009, 18:39 #
How about….
The customer with a library of 3000+ books at home, who’ll happily spend an hour or so at your store, buy 2 books on his shopping list and 3 others that he’s never heard of and aren’t really anything that he’d actually considered buying, but they seem pretty interesting anyway.
I’m sure you’ve got something against me as well, Matt.
And I truly believe that you’re in the wrong line of business.
I’d suggest something that doesn’t involve personal interaction….
Comment by John B — 15 June 2009, 16:15 #
Hi Matt
I work in a bookshop and love my job but you can’t love all of the people all of the time.
Those who think, for whatever reason, that ordering from Amazon is cheaper should look at the reasons why that is so and question the price of that cheapness which is being paid by others
http://business.timesonline.co.uk/tol/business/industry_sectors/retailing/article5337770.ece
Comment by carrie5012 — 15 June 2009, 17:38 #
@John B, et al.
I can’t say I see the point in repeating myself, but I’m more than willing to repeat myself since you and others seem to be missing it (or skimming past it):
And of course now it’s three posts, not two. This is a, um, ‘gift’ that just keeps on giving.
There's also this, quoted in comment #30 above
Comment by Matt Blind — 15 June 2009, 22:09 #
I worked retail for over 6 years at an art store and I think that everyone should be made to work retail for at least a year.
One of my favorites: Customer would ask a question, then, after I answer, they go to the clerk who had been there two weeks and ask them. Then the new co-worker would come to me, and ask me. I always thought about customers that did that: “What, you think I am lying to you?” One woman went so far as to walk away, ignoring me as I asked her a series of questions trying to figure out the paper she wanted. She went to the back where my manager was trying to work and asked him. This was after I was told by said manager to intercept customers before they got that far. As in, they shouldn’t be getting back that far with questions unanswered.
There were customers that I would literally RUN from if I saw them coming into the store, or if I heard them in the store (the ones you can’t please no matter what you do unless you give them everything for free, and they will still complain). “Not it!” I’d say to my co-workers as I scrambled to the back room. The lucky co-workers got to the back room two seconds behind me, leaving the unfortunate slower co-workers to their doom. :DOn my last day of work there I was extra, super nice, and gave LOTS of discounts, and took back merchandise with no fuss that I would of had to refuse to take back before. The folks were the kind who would have made a fuss(we had a $50 limit on returns) if I had done what the company wanted me to do. The amazing happened, the gentleman thanked me for easily doing the return. There were a lot of great customers, and lots of great art and technique discussions, and I learned a lot (like how to be social, and make small talk LOL). I wish that the better encounters stuck in the brain better than the bad ones, but I think the bad ones stick because they are more dramatic, and so that you can learn a lesson from the experience. Like: “RUN AWAY!” Self preservation. :)
In the end I think it should be: do unto others as you would have others do unto you.Comment by Jenny — 16 June 2009, 00:20 #
Last Word: go, read.
I’m still monitoring the comments here, but I’ll be arsed if I’m going to continue defending myself and my opinions from idiots who don’t even read the other comments (or perhaps, didn’t even finish reading the original post in full)
If you’d like to troll me, you’ll need to figure out some other venue. I won’t reply.
[I can still delete; be civil, please, or you’ll find your remarks missing]
Comment by Matt Blind — 16 June 2009, 11:31 #
For more ‘OMG aren’t booksellers just assholes’ type comments go here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2009/may/19/2
What amazes me is the bile with which some people respond. As Matt has already said, do people go to their supermarket and expect the staff to know the difference between different types of apple? NO! I’ve worked in many branches of retail and book selling is the most enjoyable yet frustrating one so far. The genuine pleasure you get from working out what book a customer is referring to is fantastic, but 90% of the time the next customer will be a dick who won’t say thanks or anything.
And where does this idea that ‘booksellers know nothing’ come from? If you’ve had a bad experience with a bookseller who didn’t know what you were talking about chances are you’ve met someone who’s covering for someone who’s off sick, or on holiday. The book store I work in has 6, yes, SIX floors, all filled with books, dvds and cd’s, and NOBODY, not even the store manager can possibly be expected to know EVERYTHING about EVERY SINGLE book, surely?? When I’m in my own department I’m in my element, I know my stuff and will go the extra mile. If I’m put in Kids, or Computing or Cookery, or sport, for example, I’m not so good with these and might struggle a bit or page for assistance. I’m sorry I can’t just walk to the shelf and proclaim ‘here it is!!’
We also have to put up with an inventory system that’s inaccurate and has books mis-filed, most recently work by philosopher John Gray was classed as fiction and I had to keep going to the fiction section and removing it. Sometimes the system says we have 2 copies and a massive shop-wide hunt reveals this to be a lie.
Booksellers are only human at the end of the day and yes, sometimes we make mistakes, or aren’t as polite as we should be, because we’re tired, or ill, but most of us love our job, because we Love Books.
Comment by Lynne — 24 June 2009, 12:51 #
Mmmm… There is, in fact, an eighth type of customer: the nutty (people we call “ufo” – pronounced oofo – in Greek, for obvious reasons). A few years ago, I was moonlighting as a bookseller in “Stoa tou Vivliou” in downtown Athens, Greece. (Indispensable description: “Stoa” is a large gallery full of bookshops run, often collaboratively, by small and independent publishers; there’s also a café. Nothing else). It’s mid-August, a scorching Athenian summer, and it’s noon; all this is in the customer’s defense. He comes in (mid forties, working class) looking worried, glances at the bookshelves and asks anxiously “Do you sell frying pans?” The worst part is that it was I that must have looked the idiot.
Comment by athenian — 25 June 2009, 08:55 #
Yes! Don’t forget the crazies! :p We have plenty of them, usually asking if we do mobile phone top ups, eh no, we’re not a phone shop but there are 3 directly next to us!! Two good Scottish words for idiot BTW, eejit and numpty :)
Comment by Lynne — 25 June 2009, 13:17 #
I’m not on the list. I’m a “hanger.” I go to hang out and talk to friends who work in the stores. Sometimes I’m a “terrorist,” like when I fuck around with attitude-charged buttheads who sometimes briefly get jobs at the stores I like. Know anybody like that?
Comment by Omphalos — 28 June 2009, 20:27 #
@omphalos
[wiki: navel; center of the world for those of you who didn’t catch the reference]
Why no, Omphalos, I’ve never felt misdirected rage at someone I’ve never met who works at a store I’ve never visited. And while I realize that everything posted to the internet is absolutely true and beyond debate or reproach, I usually have a sense of humor about things even when I disagree with the poster.
If you know booksellers — and if, as stated, you’re also friends with them — I’m surprised all this is new to you. I’d imagine your friends would have acquainted you with these seven types and a half dozen others, in the course talking about the job and the unique benefits of working retail.
I’m sorry if the retail slaves at the ‘stores you like’ don’t meet your high expectations. So Sorry, Effendi, can I wipe your nose for you? I try to suppress my emotions and independent thoughts, but the fact that I work retail hasn’t fully sunk in yet; I still feel like a thinking, feeling human being who thinks he has the same right to be treated courteously and fairly as an equal, no matter which side of the retail counter one happens to be standing on.
When you’re done navel-gazing, ask your friends about the realities of working retail. It may be an eye opening experience.
Comment by Matt Blind — 28 June 2009, 20:58 #
Heh. That was not rage. I don’t rage at kids on the internet. I just make comments as I see appropriate.
I really don’t need to talk to my friends about their retail experiences. I have plenty of them myself. I worked retail for (almost) decades. I think I even had an attitude like yours for quite a long time. Then I realized that people are just people, and really are not idiots just because they didn’t see the world the same way I did. I mean, when I was selling tractors, I could hardly expect someone to walk in and ask a question about them from the perspective of someone who dealt with them daily. No, its just best to let them muddle through their question, then help them to refine it. That way actually works pretty good. Once I realized that, I became much happier and enjoyed all my retail jobs more. So…I wish you luck with it all.
Or are you just a little sarcastic because you have a blog? It’s hard to tell sometimes when someone is really a pain in the ass retail snob or is just playing one on the net.
Comment by Omphalos — 28 June 2009, 23:43 #
@omphalos: yeah, whatever. You’ve been there, done that, and anything I might post is just a poor echo to your vast experience. Thank you for your kind attention to my poor blog.
There are many outlets you might find for descriptions of proper customer service [or the lack of same] — hell, you could even cover that on your own web space.
Comment by Matt Blind — 29 June 2009, 00:03 #
Ah! A dismissive attitude now. That is nice to find on the internet. Though you may want to work on the way you take comments out of context and put words into people’s mouths. That came off as amateurish. Anyway, I expected nothing less. And you somehow managed to track down my own web page! Must have been from where I typed the URL in here. Nice sleuthing, inspector!
I did read a few of your other comments. I guess I was one of those others who didn’t really get what you were doing here. I must have been fooled by the comment box. I thought you may have wanted comments. Guess I was wrong.
So…if you’re done, I’ll be returning to the real world. The one where smarmy internet kid’s opinions matter not in the least. Heard of that place? Oh, of course you have. You’re a poor put-upon retail slug who has seen it <em>all</em> :roll
BTW, turn on markup language. How can I possibly make my point without it?
Comment by Omphalos — 29 June 2009, 00:15 #
@Omphalos:
If you Feel the Need: Take your main argument, line up your evidence, and make your point elsewhere.
But this is my space.
I’ve presented my case and made my point, as this is My Blog — and if you’ve a comment or complaint to make about my points, I’ve been more than fair with the commentary options presented: if the comment option is insufficient, You Can Take Your Objections to your own web space and I’m sure you’ll be able to make whatever point, with bold and italics, that you feel is necessary.
This is a side argument; you’ve nothing to contribute to the topic and now you’re just drawing attention to yourself because you feel self important — There’s nothing you can say that pertains to either bookselling or retail in general. It’s like a kid that shows up and insists “ooo, me too, me too, I like books”.
Unless you’ve something to say about book retail? Or publishing?
[oh yeah: special bulletin: it’s my blog, I’m always going to have the last word]
Comment by Matt Blind — 29 June 2009, 00:38 #
I’m a bookseller in a multimedia store. I think I had all 7 of these types today alone (and it was a relatively slow Sunday)! I just spent about the last hour reading your original post, and then at least a third of the following comments aloud with much amusement and agreement.
Allow me to join the chorus of “Thank you!!”
I just got back into being The Book Lady after being the assistant manager of our store for several months, and despite the pay being slightly lower, I am SO GLAD. Why? Because, as you said, I Love Books. I love helping people find just the book they’re looking for. I love talking about books with my customers. I love, as one commenter said, blowing their minds when I find That Book With The Red Cover (I actually did manage this once – it was You: The Owner’s Manual in that case). I actually like some of these customer types (Browsers are pretty cool, and when I’m not on the clock, I am one). And, as you also said, I hate people who keep me from selling books… or even more generally, from sharing my love of books.
I have some really wonderful people who come into my store, and I have some real a—holes. Usually, the good feelings generated by the wonderful people outweigh the grumpiness generated by the dumbs—ts. There are Days, though, ohhhh, there are Days. And on those Days, it’s good to know I’m not alone in my perceptions. I try to remain positive as much as I can, even when I’m not on the clock, but sometimes ya just need a good rant – either to write or to read. And I can tell your descriptions aren’t all negative, just bitingly sarcastic in places, which I can definitely appreciate.
I have to share one of my favorites (ha!): I’m wearing my silly corporate-color apron and my nametag, carrying a large stack of books that I’ve just taken off a display I’m refreshing… and someone asks me, “Do you work here?” Naah, I’m just wearing this apron ‘cause it sets off my eyes… nevermind that it completely clashes with my outfit. (facepalm)
And… ooh, this is part of a series? Spiff. I’ll have to go read the other ones. I’m really enjoying your insight and your obvious passion for the book business. Again, thank you for posting this!
Comment by elyachan — 29 June 2009, 01:48 #
If you hate working with the public then quite.
I have a name for guys like you who whine an complain about what they do but keep right on doing it but politeness keeps me from using it.
Comment by Spiff — 29 June 2009, 18:45 #
Just one more quick comment. the internet works both ways. If you’re going to vent your frustrations to the world, then you should expect the world to respond with all kinds of comments both negative and possative. if you didn’t want negative responses you shou;d not have put up a comment feature.
Comment by Spiff — 29 June 2009, 20:19 #
@Spiff: why, thank you, your second comment is constructive.
Your first comment less so, but everyone is entitled to an opinion.
Comment by Matt Blind — 30 June 2009, 00:10 #
It appears so many people missed the point on this post, but I wont get into hyper-sensitivity based on mostly true stereotypes.
I find myself sitting in the Independent/Browser category. Independent because I feel that it is a reflection of my personal initiative and willingness to look for myself. If I skip over trying, I feel like I am totally wasting a salesperson’s time. However, it can be a reflection on the bookstore’s layout as well. If it isn’t apparent where a book should be then reconsidering placement might be the best bet. The case I think of is when I went looking for the PostSecret books. BAM had them in both Self-Help and Art.
Anyways, I appreciate the obviously comical commentary on stereotypes most of the complainers are too afraid to admit to.
Comment by blogomattic — 9 July 2009, 10:48 #