Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Finding Kindness in the Appliance Department
I'm in the Charleston (WV) Sears with my friend Betty because her 40-year-old stove (a cook top) died last night. We need a new one. Thanksgiving is a few days away.
Earlier today we found a few for $1,000. We don't have $1,000. Then, Sears promised us one in stock for $350. Yowser! We're renewed. Happy. Thinking about turkey.
So we're in Sears, explaining our high hopes to sales associate Suzanne. We explain why our hopes rise high. She checks her computer, and pops our bubbles. The only one in stock costs $1,000.
We still don't don't have $1,000. Our holiday plans begin to shatter.
The news gutts Betty. "Well Happy ******* Thanksgiving," she grumbles and walks away.
I try to distract Suzanne (she's just the messenger), but she hears Betty and frowns. I await her parry; instead, she gives her heart. "Don't get your hopes up (again), but let's try something," she said, pointing to a pile of boxed-up merchandise waiting to be shelved.
She digs through the pile, slides boxes around, tips some up on end. No luck. No cook top. But this time, it's OK. We feel good because Suzanne has joined our holiday rescue.
She gives us what she can, a big red bow (pictured above), which finds more smiles for us.
We leave Sears with lifted hearts, talking about Suzanne, not about that darn stove. We talk about how we want to tell Sears what a nice person she is. About how she is what a sales person should be.
About how thankful we are for the Suzanne distraction, even though we still have no stove.