Back before the big drug store chains became the norm, I had
a job after school in a small town pharmacy.
The old man, in addition to being very highly reputed in the pharmacy
profession, was also a shrewd business entrepreneur. Shrewd enough to exploit a loophole in the
mimimum wage laws, enabling him to pay full-time students such as myself and a
few of my classmates less than the nominal minimum wage.
Years later, at a high school class reunion, I got into a
conversation with a classmate. We sized
up those of us who were there, and those who weren't. Though there were exceptions both ways, we
came to the conclusion that those of us who had gainful employment in high
school fared far better in life than those of us who did not, notwithstanding
the impecuniousness of the emolument which some of us received. And a third classmate put us in our place
when we started pissing and moaning about our low wages from our respective after-school
jobs; his "gainful employment" was helping out his parents with the
family business, and, doing the arithmetic, his take-home pay on a per-hour
basis was less than ours (though he did subsequently attain an ownership
interest in the family business).
The proprietor of the drugstore where I worked after school
may have been a miserly tightwad sonofabitch, but he was a good boss. He knew how he wanted to run his business, he
made the rules, he communicated the rules to his employees, and he basically left
his employees alone to do what they were tasked to do when he wasn't chewing us
out. And he had a sign posted in the
back room: "Customers Pay Your Salaries!"
On one occasion when he was dressing me down, two customers simultaneously walked
up to two separate cash registers. He
cut off his tirade and said to me, "Go help that gentleman at the
register, and I'll yell at you later."
(He did).
The old man's Rule Number One was that The Customer is
Always Right. He insisted that we never
get into an argument with a customer, and any dissatisfied customers were to be
referred to him (or to the pharmacist on duty if he was not available).
My son's first remunerative job was gotten through the good
offices of his maternal parent. My wife
arranged for him to volunteer during a summer at the hospital where she works,
which gave him a preference for a remunerative position the next summer. My wife told the chair of the department
where he was working that she was to hold my son to the same standard as any
other employee. The next year, his
senior year of high school, my son lined up his own after school job (or,
rather, jobs, because he had two), which paid him more than the hospital could.
So I certainly can identify with working in a low paying job
after school, and I certainly can respect those who do it. Accordingly, I give benefit of the doubt to
the young lady whom I encountered in the Big National Chain drugstore this
evening. It is entirely plausible that
she did not have the benefit of proper training and direction.
I walked into the store and immediately noticed (could not
help but notice) that the "background" music was not so
background. I would estimate it to
exceed 70 dB (normal conversation is about 60 dB). This young lady came up to me and asked me if
she could be of help. I told her that,
first of all, the background music was too loud. She told me that she has no control over
it. I said to her "Don't you have a
manager here?" She told me that her
manager would tell me the same thing. At
that point, I was really, really uncomfortable, so I put down the item I had
intended to take to checkout and walked out of the store.
A while later, I passed a Big National Chain drugstore at
another location. I went into
there. The same background music was
playing, but it wasn't as loud. I did my
shopping there, and continued with my agenda this evening.
The independent pharmacies (or hardware stores or stationery
stores or any other kind of store) were good because they were managed by
people who had skin in the game. At the Big
National Chain drugstores I visit, they end up with a new manager every few
months. The small town independent
pharmacy where I worked was one and the same as the financial security of its
proprietor. And so, the old man did his
utmost to keep the customers satisfied; and while he couldn't always give them
the lowest prices, he insisted that customers be given the most courteous,
expeditious and competent service. He
knew that the most important person in the store was the customer.
Almost two years ago, I had occasion to walk by what had
been the small town drugstore where I had been employed. It is now a high-end bistro restaurant. Two blocks away is a Big National Chain
drugstore. I went into there to get
something for my Mom. I cannot say that
the personnel in that store gave me poor service, or had poor attitudes. But somehow, I don't believe that the
establishment would pass muster with the old man if he were still around. And, given how this ObamaCare is perverting
the healthcare system, I cannot imagine the Big National Chain drugstores emerging
unscathed by it.
Labels: Big Business, Drug Stores, Employment, Obamacare, Small Business
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