Business Models

It occurred to me this weekend that every store on the planet should operate like B & H. You go in, you figure out what you want, you have someone on the floor scan it in, they take it from you, they give you a slip of some sort, your items disappear, you go to the cash register without your disappeared items, you check out in one second because there's nothing to scan in, you get another receipt, you go to a second line and voila! Your items are there, in a bag, and are handed to you within two seconds. On a busy weekend afternoon, you are in and out of there in 5 seconds flat.

I wonder why more businesses don't operate this way. D says its because it requires a huge workforce to be this efficient. It's true. There are a lot of employees, and this probably wouldn't be a possibility for stores that aren't selling really expensive electronics. But still. It rules, and it is always a pleasure going in there, as long as you know exactly what you want.

In contrast we have Cingular. I have been a loyal Cingular subscriber since I reluctantly got a cell phone in 1999 after my roommate, R, got a serious girlfriend and was therefore on the phone at all times. He would say things like "You better not use the phone tonight, because A is going to call." He didn't say this because he really wanted to talk to A. He said it because he knew that A would rip him a new one if he wasn't available or if the line was busy. Because I liked R, I caved in and got myself a cell phone despite having previously said that I would never, ever, ever! have a cell phone.

With the death of my cell phone this weekend, I had to reevaluate whether I wanted to remain with Cingular or transfer to a new carrier in order to get a cheap, perhaps free, phone.

I wanted to stay with Cingular. I like Cingular. I have no complaints. Reception is great everywhere except The Parents', but that's not much of an issue these days. My contract had expired, so I figured I'd go to the Cingular store, renew my contract, and a get a free phone out of the deal.

I headed out on Saturday afternoon to the Cingular Store on the south side of 34th Street at 7th.

Nobody helped me when I walked in. There was a malaise amongst the employees, an overall attitude of being completely exasperated by anyone's being in the store. When nobody offered to help me after about two minutes (even though there were no other customers in the store), I approached a girl and explained my situation.

She said nothing. Finally she said "So?"

"So..." I said, "I'd like to renew my contract so I can get a cheap phone."

Nothing.

"Do you have cheap phones?"

She snapped "We have this one for $19.99 after rebate."

"I don't like that one," I said, because it was flimsy and had a mirror on it. But not a shiny mirror. A dull, ugly, pointless cell phone mirror. "Do you have other phones?"

Exasperated! She sighed loudly and said "THESE" and pointed to two other phones on the wall that were a bit too expensive.

"You have only three phones?"

She groaned and walked three whole feet to the other wall and showed me three more phones. I asked her if they had my old phone, which I love, and she said they didn't.

I finally consented to one of the phones even though I didn't like it. She asked me what my phone number was, and when I told her, she said "Where's that?" I explained that I still had my Boston number, and she said she could do nothing for me because I should have relocated. I said "Can't you relocate me right now?"

She didn't know but said I could try. I could call in from there and do it. It seemed a bit strange to me that she couldn't do it, but I figured she knew what she was talking about. I then said "Well, since you're going to relocate me, you can still take my Sim card out of this phone, right? So I won't lose my numbers."

"No, I can't, because you're out of the realm of service."

"Yes, but the data is in the card. Like we could copy the information onto the phone, then reset the card, and then it would be fine."

"No, you can't."

"I think you can."

"No. We are going to reset everything."

I asked her if she minded if I checked my voicemail before my phone ceased to exist, and she was put out by it. She didn't understand. I said "Look, I haven't had access to a phone and I just want to see if I missed any messages before you obliterate my old line."

Exasperated again! I checked my messages to see if D had called (we were supposed to be hanging out but couldn't because D refuses to make plans in advance and since I was without phone I couldn't communicate at all). He had called, but he didn't leave his number and I, because I don't know phone numbers because I am enslaved to technology, had no way to reach him. Knowing that my card was going to be killed and all hope of contacting D killed as well, and knowing that this woman was a royal pain in the ass, I decided to just leave and find another carrier.

I said "Do you know if there's a Sprint nearby?" Without hesitation she told me where I could find a Sprint and a Verizon.

Wtf!??! Isn't it their job to make sure patrons don't leave? Ridiculous.

I went to Verizon first. They didn't have any free phones either for new subscribers. I didn't like any of the phones there enough to pay what they were asking, so I headed to Sprint.

Sprint was nuts! They had millions of phones and options. Clearly everyone in New York has Sprint because there were tons of people there, waiting in a queue. Sprint is high tech. They have payment kiosks. They have a digital queue - you stop in at the front and then they put your name on a screen so you will know when it is your turn to be helped. I was tired and beat down and didn't want to figure these things out, so I decided to give up, go home and rethink things.

In my fantasy world, I would go home and find my exact phone for sale on Craigslist for $10. I would pick it up that afternoon, go to a different Cingular that night, and voila! Fully operational.

I headed west along the north side of 34th and noticed another Cingular store! It was directly across the street from the first Cingular I'd gone into.

"Hmmm... interesting..." I thought, and wondered if it would be different in there. I decided to go in, and lo and behold, it was another planet! It was professional, large, posh, and within three seconds of my being there, two people approached me and asked me if I needed help.

Within five minutes, I was sitting down, having been relocated by the store, my number was being changed, only after they put my cranberry juice soaked SIM card into my new phone, downloaded all the numbers, and then gave it back to me as a souvenir.

Now.

This is awesome, because I have a new phone that I actually like (although it was not free, but I think the days of the free phone with new contract are over), a New York number which I'd meant to get for a while, I had a nice time chatting with and being made fun of by the Nice Cingular Man, etc.

But.

What is Cingular thinking? They are thinking "If we have two stores, we'll get twice as much business!" but in essence, they are losing business of anyone who happens to be walking down the south side of the street.

If they removed the south side store, nobody would be distracted by it, they'd look across the street and see a Cingular store, and they would just go there.

Instead, they have one really shitty store and one awesome store, which makes no sense.

I think I am going to write them a letter.

Do I really care? No. But I am frustrated by this poor business model. Things that make no sense drive me insane. When I told Nice Cingular Man about the poor service across the street, he said "A lot of people have been saying that lately."

I guess I'll write a letter, if only to hopefully get some free Cingular gear out of this. Or a ring tone, because as cute as my new phone is, it isn't as good as my old phone and didn't come with any satisfactory ring tones. Oh well.

So yes. I have a new phone.

And I ordered a new refurbished 60 gig color-screen IPod and am hopefully going to sell my dead one on Craigslist for parts.

It sucks because I am poor, but at least I am almost back in business.

And now I must work on my seminar.

Au revoir!