Following some inborn sense of direction
Customers are an odd and somewhat mystifying species. Like sea turtles returning to their beaches to laboriously dig nests and deposit their eggs only to all but vanish into the wide oceans otherwise, so too is the adult store patron, clumsily hauling their bulk onto shores festooned with movies, magazines, and novelties to sink their money in the accounts of the store before returning to the unknowns from whence they came.
Earlier today I was treated to one of the inexplicable behavior of one of them. The customer in question has been with us for years. He's a polite, genial individual who is always prompt to keep his rental account up-to-date and paid. In short, we know him on sight and vice versa.
Thus, I was moderately confused when this gentleman, obviously intent on returning his recent rentals, stopped at the counter several yards away from me, as well as the computer where the movies would be checked back in. The computer hasn't moved since he's been a customer. He should know quite well the various steps we take with rentals. However, for some reason he thought it would be more convenient for him to walk the extra dozen feet so I could walk down to where he'd deposited the DVDs and carry them back to where I had been.
Then, after he'd picked out a couple new movies to take home with him, he again stationed himself at the far end of the counter necessitating my walking over to retrieve his choices to carry back to the computer to enter in, then hike back down to where he stood for him to sign the rental agreement and collect payment, journey back to enter in the payment, and finally to trudge back to him with his rentals and change.
It easily doubled his time spent standing at the counter needlessly. I can't even glean some sort of convenience of travel on his part since he took the longest path from door to counter and movie racks to counter possible.
It's times like this I curse the laws that prevent me from collecting research specimens for behavioral studies and physical dissection. Science (and potentially the gene pool) could only benefit from the discoveries it would yield.
Earlier today I was treated to one of the inexplicable behavior of one of them. The customer in question has been with us for years. He's a polite, genial individual who is always prompt to keep his rental account up-to-date and paid. In short, we know him on sight and vice versa.
Thus, I was moderately confused when this gentleman, obviously intent on returning his recent rentals, stopped at the counter several yards away from me, as well as the computer where the movies would be checked back in. The computer hasn't moved since he's been a customer. He should know quite well the various steps we take with rentals. However, for some reason he thought it would be more convenient for him to walk the extra dozen feet so I could walk down to where he'd deposited the DVDs and carry them back to where I had been.
Then, after he'd picked out a couple new movies to take home with him, he again stationed himself at the far end of the counter necessitating my walking over to retrieve his choices to carry back to the computer to enter in, then hike back down to where he stood for him to sign the rental agreement and collect payment, journey back to enter in the payment, and finally to trudge back to him with his rentals and change.
It easily doubled his time spent standing at the counter needlessly. I can't even glean some sort of convenience of travel on his part since he took the longest path from door to counter and movie racks to counter possible.
It's times like this I curse the laws that prevent me from collecting research specimens for behavioral studies and physical dissection. Science (and potentially the gene pool) could only benefit from the discoveries it would yield.
posted by Lanius at 6:36 PM
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