Why even bother?

You want to help me? Stop asking me if you can help me!

"Can I help you sir?" Why do people who work in large department and electronic store chains waste my time with this question? If you frequent any major store chain, you'll be faced with this question anywhere from :0.03 seconds to :30 seconds upon entering the store. From the Red-shirted pseudo-friendly drones at Target to the mindless-blue shirt zombies of Best Buy, chain store employees everywhere seem to be in a hurry to be helpful. You really want to help me out? Stop asking me if you can help me out.

You see, these lost souls don't actually KNOW any more than we do (if they did they would be in management or corporate), no they are just doing what their manager tells them to do to collect their paycheck. I understand, heck we've all had THAT job. I also know this job from the other end, which supports my general belief that a person is reasonably bright, people are dopes.

Here's a few of my favorite examples:

Scenario 1
 
Mutant Drone: Can I help you find anything today sir?
Me: Yes can you tell where I can find a 12-inch DVI cable?
Mutant Drone: Yes sir, those are right over there, Aisle Six (points to a sign above him that says "Aisle Six: Cables") Really?

You do realize the only way you were able to "help" me was because you ran across the store to ask me a question we both already knew the answer to. You asked me something I was able to fundamentally answer on my own. That's not helping me, that's patronizing me. Knock it off!

Now to be fair, I am sure some fancy market research firm charged your company millions of dollars and gave your corporate officers a big stack of papers that said stuff like "... customer satisfaction is increased 13.4% when you say 'please' and 'thank you'." or "Your brain-dead customers don't know jack about the crap they're looking for, so if you chase them down as soon as they walk in the door, you'll show you are an authority on all things cables. They will then worship you as DVI cable Gods and offer their endless loyalty by paying obscene prices for a cable that is probably in their kitchen drawer."

"What's more, your employees can revel in the brightly colored shirts you force them to wear while also taking pride in the fact they know where the cables are by having thoroughly studied the store signage before your customers. This in turn gives the illusion of knowledge." These in-store 'heroes' were probably the same kids in 10th grade Geometry that were excited about getting 2 points on the exam for writing their name down. 
Ready for a fun exercise? Try this:

Mutant Drone: Can I help you find anything today sir?
Me: Yes can you tell why the supply-chain dynamics of your store are so poorly conceived that–along with your insultingly rancid, salt-of-the-Earth advertising–you are forced to charge me $49.99 for a $3 cable?
Mutant Drone: "[SQUAK!] Errr! Zapp!! Cannot_com_pute... must... get, store.. manager. Answer [Beeep!] above pay grade!"

Works every time.

Scenario 2

Mindless Robotron: Yes sir, can I help you?
Me: Do you have anymore of these sweaters? You have six left but they're all Extra-small and I'm 6' 2"… Mindless Robotron: Sorry sir, everything we have is out on the rack (returns to chatting with co-worker)
Me: Anyway to check in back just to make sure?
Mindless Robotron: (Rolling eyes, voice dripping in sarcasm) Sorry sir, everything we have is out on the rack (returns to chatting with co-worker)

I'm now made to feel as though I am an intrusion into the all-important conversation between two minimum-wage "go-getters" discussing the latest reality TV show developments. 
Really? I kind of thought that helping a customer find what they were looking for and insuring a satisfactory experience was–I don't know–good business? 

Apparently, I am stupid and bothersome and should feel honored you acknowledged my presence because I don't have a super nifty name badge with the company logo on it. Sorry, next time, I will try and force my worthless pea-brain to remember NOT to ask you for assistance. I can see you are clearly too busy for me while you're discussing important world-changing events and altering the course of nations.

Time for another fun exercise! Try this:

Mindless Robotron: Yes sir, can I help you?
Me: Yes, please share why you hold the people who pay for your job in such utter contempt?
Mindless Robotron: Excuse me sir?
 
Me: You heard me! Also, are you and your co-workers hoarding all of the XLs, XXLs and XLTs?
Mindless Robotron: Uhh… Me: Oh, and by the way, I am with corporate to review the toxic levels of contempt and disdain our employees have for our customers–you will be getting a detailed report from your manager this afternoon he will provide you with a host of mandatory customer appreciation classes. Have a good day!

Scenario 3
 
Me: Excuse me, green bean soup toasties are on sale this week, could you tell me where those are?
Headdless Zombie: Oh, that's in aisle 11, halfway down, right next to the plaster-flavored snack balls. (I get to isle 11 and the product I am searching for is nowhere in sight)...

What is it about Grocery stores that fill me with dread? Is it the three year old who saw a box of chocolate frosted sugar bombs he was told he couldn't have and is now auditioning for the opera? Is it the yuppie with a cart parked right in the middle of the aisle who then looks at me with utter disgust as I try to edge by? No, it's the apron-wearing food custodians that do only a mediocre job of hiding their repulsion of me as I approach them to ask a question. How does sending me on a wild goose chase help either of us? I am only going to come back and ask you again.

Gang, this ain't the place for elitism. For reals. No need to take out your frustrations on me. The rest of us just assume that if you work in a supermarket you just might have some idea where things are. You know, the same way I expect a judge to know the law or that Doctor might know about the human body. And while we're on the topic, why are you wearing an apron while stocking the food? Are you whipping up some bar-b-que behind those giant swinging doors in the meat department? I like my ribs well done, please.

Fun exercise time!

Me: Excuse me, could you point me to the green bean soup toasties?
Headless Zombie: Oh, that's in aisle 11, halfway down, right next to the plaster-flavored snack balls.
Me: No they aren't, you and I both know they aren't there. Why can't you just tell me you don't know…?

Look, I know firsthand that having to deal with the public gets annoying–we've all had to be kind to people we loathe. But that's the job. And here's the golden nugget–if you continue to accept the money for the position, then you need to do the job to the best of your competency. And while you're at it, let management know that people don't like to be descended on the moment they walk in the store. Isn't it implied that you know something about the store if you work there? I'll come for you if I need you, okay? So put the smile on and be a courteous representative of your organization. 
That's how you can help me.