We journalists are only human. Instead of listening to new, exciting stories from life every day, we keep getting stuck on our favorite topics. One of them is called “Service Desert Germany”. Not a month goes by without consumer broadcasts sending a test customer to buy a washing machine and radioing outraged reports from the retail front. (“Salesperson doesn’t even know what a washing machine is!”). All that’s missing is Günter Wallraff disguising himself as a bread buyer on Saturday morning and writing a book about it.
The service desert has long since become an oasis with ornamental gardens. That means: the washing machine salesman still sends you to the colleague back there with a vague gesture if you want something from him. But he then wishes you a wonderful day, a relaxing weekend, a magical afternoon – salespeople didn’t say things like that before. Just “Goodbye”. Which is already a pious wish. How magical would life be if all the good wishes at the end of the shopping season came true! And how many dear acquaintances you have since they all read the name on the EC card inconspicuously: “Have a wonderful Thursday afternoon, Ms. Carl!”
Counter power as a best friend
Of course this trick works. And how. When the bartender starts acting like my best friend, I find it harder to ignore her well-intentioned advice. And of course it can be a bit more. Not just two slices of organic bear sausage, but also one or the other party hanger. A particularly mean boutique sentence: “I’d be happy to hang that in your cabin!” Nice offer, but with double bottom. Or do you dare to leave a store with zero sales when the saleswoman has lovingly draped ten pieces on a hook for you – like a mother choosing a child’s birthday dress for her daughter? I have to try at least seven. And buy two. Anything else would be heartless.
Also the well-stocked wine tradehas his tricks: first tease the customers with sample sips and then sell them a crate of Grand Cru. You could probably contest the contract of sale when you are sober. But you don’t want to. Too bad about the nice wine. And then there’s that type of saleswoman you really want to have as your best friend. Like this baker I met a few months ago. I sat on the front steps of her shop in the pouring rain, nursing my son while my daughter stood by and nagged. Two minutes later the door opened and the baker came out with two biscuits. One for me, one for Helen. I had never shopped there before. Not even a pretzel for the kid. If the store weren’t 500 kilometers from home, I would never buy rolls anywhere else.
What do we learn from this? Positive energy comes back to you. You don’t have to be the Dalai Lama to know this. Maybe I should cut myself a slice or two from it. Maybe like this: Dear reader, I wish you that you will always find someone who will give you a cookie when you need one. I wish you a well-stocked wine rack (tea is fine too). And of course a wonderful February.
