How businesses with mediocre customer service manage to stay afloat is beyond me. Out of necessity I have been patronizing a small neighborhood heath food store, the kind that Trader Joe’s could mop up with a  pack of $1.99 sprouted grain bagels in about five seconds.

The kids who jerk around at the registers at this little place have never said “hello” when I come in. They’re too busy goofing off. The one or two stockers act like they would prefer monastic life to helping a customer.

The produce section is so scant it rarely has anything beyond apples and oranges and maybe some carrots. Yet this store has been open for over 20 years.  I have never seen samples offered, and their prices are so exorbitant I frequently skip all but what I have to buy because no one elses carries it.

Last week – I swear this really happened – I was there just before they closed. Someone announced over the loud speaker, “We’re closed. We’re turning off the lights and going home.”

Once I couldn’t find something I wanted. I forget what. When I got to the check-out the kid asked, “Did you find everything all right?”

And then without waiting for a response, he started ringing up my stuff.

“Ah, no,” I said. “I was looking for soy bean sprouts and you don’t seem to carry them.”

The cash register kid kept scanning my food.

“Aren’t you supposed to take my request and see if you can get it for me?”

“That’s not my job,” he said.

“Really? I always thought that was good customer service.”

He shrugged.

Have it your way, I thought. And then I asked the big Q.  “What’s your name?”

For a moment he evinced the fear of God. “Tyler.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tyler. I’ll remember that.”

For pity’s sake man. Get a life, get a personality, get a brain!

Now I am laughing. Hard. And doing a happy dance. There’s a new natural food store coming to town. A much bigger one. I know it well because it is based in a state where I used to live. And their customer service and selection and prices are waaaaay good.

The little do-nothing guy is in anguish, I hear. And the other two wanna-be natural food stores that could care less are also probably chewing their finger nails. The store that’s coming was started by one woman a long time ago. And her one store became a chain.

What this says to me, is that it doesn’t matter what you’re going to get out of being nice, doing a good job or basically being mindful of someone’s needs. The reason to do it is because it’s the right thing to do. Everything else will come.  Just keep on doing good.

Now I would not be surprised if this store, which fucused more on vitamins than real food, is kicking itself in the powdered protein. They don’t stand a chance.

It’s kind of like “rotten restaurant syndome.” That’s what I call it when a restaurant doesn’t go out of its way to be friendly, give you free appetizers the first time you go in, or a break on your bill when they mess up your order and have to re-do something. Customers stop banging the door down, and they try to save money by cutting wait-staff. Then customer service really hits bottom. People stop coming and they eventually go out of business.

I would bet the owners of that health food store thought this day would never come. They probably thought they could get away without expanding,  being community-oriented, or heaven forbid offering little samples of coffee and quinoa and feta salad with green onions. Blaspheme for even thinking beef barbeque made from 100% range-fed beef.  

Do you know how long it should take to act on a good idea? Five seconds.

Don’t forget to click on Chinese Boat Wisdom for Jenny Kung latest blog! This week Jenny jumps into the one-paddle sampan with her sister and takes off for the “floating village party.” It’s about growing up in a completely unique culture that will never return.