Mr. Coutu does not have a clue
Contrary to popular belief, it does not take much to make me happy. Chocolate, sunshine, a nice stroll... I also loooove going to the pharmacy and can literally spend hours there (just ask my sister, she cringes everytime I mention the word). My jaunts to my neighbourhood Jean Coutu are usually an escape into the wonderful realm that is Beauty Products and General Useless Female Doo-Dads, which I simply could not live without and is often the perfect cheerer-upper (like today!).
Of course, I go in with a short list, usually at least one, two, or three items (I let the list build up) that make the trip worthwhile. But once I'm in there, no matter the list, I just lose myself, and time. I look at birthday cards, compare prices on cream I don't need, read up on ulcers. Like today: somewhere between my curiosity browsing of Fisherman's friends and diuretic teas, I decided that today was the day I should solve my contact lense solution situation. I called the pharmacist over from under his 'renseignements' sign towards the pertinent aisle and had a nice friendly chat with him about neutralizers, provincial backorders, the contact lense market, the manager's take, and special pellets. We had a grand old time that finished with a joke about how crappy multi-purpose solutions were. Ha ha ha! I turned around, happy at my new eye care resolution (and friend!).
I will add here that I am a respectful browser, unlike the trashy woman, my nemesis, in the same aisle as me today, who proceeded in spraying every flavour of body mist into the alley and then sniffing loudly, trying to suck in a bit of the cheap magnolia odour she had inundated the section with - I do not spray or test; I might open the odd bottle and smell, but I am the type to pick the most full bottle of any product and be peeved when people proceed to spray half of it onto the store floor.
Now, of course, my prolonged browsing does arouse some curiosity (who wouldn't, spending over 1 hour in a tiny pharmacy?), usually that of the store detective. For some reason, these lame 'beauty cops' always seem intent on singling me out and following me around, seriously questioning the yeast infection creams whilst I look over the astringent possibilities the world has to offer. But, see, I'm not a thief; I'm just a girl who loves useless overpriced pharmaceuticals. Mr. Coutu, get with the program. First of all, if you are going to hire a store detective, make it a girl. Any guy in a pharmacy more than 2 mins, that is not holding shaving cream, a box of Magnum condoms, or tampons (with an embrassed look) is just fishy. Second of all, DON'T make the guy dress as a punk civilian (peering at you out of the corner of his eye while you wonder if the baby pink tweezers or the flashy turquoise ones will be cuter in your makeup bag). Third of all, give him a few pointers: don't follow the suspected 'prey' in every aisle; don't have him just hold a pack of gum while he shops; have him avoid MULTIPLE glances and direct eye contact that just screams 'I am watching you, step away from the cotton balls'; don't have him come right next to you and peer onto your personal care shopping list, trying to decipher what 'Jolen' means; and, for God's sake, don't let him be as lame as to follow you to the cash and then yell something into his sleeve once you have obviously paid for all your goods and are leaving the store.
Mr. Coutu, as much as I love you, you don't have a clue.
Of course, I go in with a short list, usually at least one, two, or three items (I let the list build up) that make the trip worthwhile. But once I'm in there, no matter the list, I just lose myself, and time. I look at birthday cards, compare prices on cream I don't need, read up on ulcers. Like today: somewhere between my curiosity browsing of Fisherman's friends and diuretic teas, I decided that today was the day I should solve my contact lense solution situation. I called the pharmacist over from under his 'renseignements' sign towards the pertinent aisle and had a nice friendly chat with him about neutralizers, provincial backorders, the contact lense market, the manager's take, and special pellets. We had a grand old time that finished with a joke about how crappy multi-purpose solutions were. Ha ha ha! I turned around, happy at my new eye care resolution (and friend!).
I will add here that I am a respectful browser, unlike the trashy woman, my nemesis, in the same aisle as me today, who proceeded in spraying every flavour of body mist into the alley and then sniffing loudly, trying to suck in a bit of the cheap magnolia odour she had inundated the section with - I do not spray or test; I might open the odd bottle and smell, but I am the type to pick the most full bottle of any product and be peeved when people proceed to spray half of it onto the store floor.
Now, of course, my prolonged browsing does arouse some curiosity (who wouldn't, spending over 1 hour in a tiny pharmacy?), usually that of the store detective. For some reason, these lame 'beauty cops' always seem intent on singling me out and following me around, seriously questioning the yeast infection creams whilst I look over the astringent possibilities the world has to offer. But, see, I'm not a thief; I'm just a girl who loves useless overpriced pharmaceuticals. Mr. Coutu, get with the program. First of all, if you are going to hire a store detective, make it a girl. Any guy in a pharmacy more than 2 mins, that is not holding shaving cream, a box of Magnum condoms, or tampons (with an embrassed look) is just fishy. Second of all, DON'T make the guy dress as a punk civilian (peering at you out of the corner of his eye while you wonder if the baby pink tweezers or the flashy turquoise ones will be cuter in your makeup bag). Third of all, give him a few pointers: don't follow the suspected 'prey' in every aisle; don't have him just hold a pack of gum while he shops; have him avoid MULTIPLE glances and direct eye contact that just screams 'I am watching you, step away from the cotton balls'; don't have him come right next to you and peer onto your personal care shopping list, trying to decipher what 'Jolen' means; and, for God's sake, don't let him be as lame as to follow you to the cash and then yell something into his sleeve once you have obviously paid for all your goods and are leaving the store.
Mr. Coutu, as much as I love you, you don't have a clue.
posted by isabellenecessary at 5:50 PM
1 Comments:
You are so right!!!
I also get followed constantly by really badly trained (or untrained) store detectives or just regular staff who lately seem to double as assistant detectives at Jean Coutu and the Pharmaprix. And we are not the only ones - when I brought this up at a social gathering recently, a few people said they experienced the same treatment when shopping at these pharmacies.
Yesterday I had a store employee ( a young guy dressed in Pharmaprix shirt) come and stand over me as I was bent down trying to choose a nail file (about 1.99) (they are on the wall close to the floor). He had his "communications" aparatus out and he kept talking to his contact (some guy in the back room who told him a customer was in a suspected shoplifting position in the nail file section?) He was making it very obvious that I was under observation. Then he kept appearing beside me until I got to the cash. I left the store feeling pretty upset and wish I had talked to the manager.
Another place that is really bad for this is Omer des Serres. The regular staff is obviously trained to follow shoppers around and they really overdo it.
Quite frankly, I'm pretty fed up of being treated like this. I spend a fair amount of my hard-earned money in these places and I often walk out of them feeling insulted and harassed.
The management of these stores seems to have adopted the philosophy that employees should assume any person is a thief until they prove otherwise" (by paying) and intimidation is ok in order to discourage theft and avoid having to deal with the business of arresting someone after they leave the store.
I think we should start saying something. Perhaps we should just request to see the manager and ask him/her if we can finish our shopping without being followed around. Or maybe we should just hand our selected items to the so-called detective and ask him "could you please hold these for me - since you're following me around anyways" :-)
The management of these stores should take some lessons from IKEA, where you can browse for hours without ever being treated like a would-be thief (although I'm sure you are being watched from afar).
Perhaps someone who's in the know about this type of thing could shed some light on the issue.
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