Dave and I recently ended our furniture hunt. After two agonizing weeks of searching for accent tables, we decided to get a set we’d seen back at La-Z-Boy while looking for seating. I liked it immediately, but he didn’t. Not until he saw the exact same thing at Lauter’s in Easton did he conclude that he liked it. I suppose it was because he saw it matched with other furniture in better lighting. I wasn’t peeved that we could have saved all that time continuing to shop. I was really just happy the nightmare was over.

One of the worst experiences we had while still searching was at Raymour and Flanigan. We stupidly went to the Quakertown store thinking it would be different than the one in Whitehall, where they hire massively aggressive sales people. One in particular was the pit bull of salesmen. If you go, you’ll know him because he’s going to jump all over you and lick your face when you walk in the door.

The Quakertown store was as bad as Whitehall, if not worse. No less than six sales people were huddled at the front door, waiting to attack. We should have just turned around and left right then and there. You always think you can get past their tactics, but they make it VERY hard. Despite our ingenious plan to divide and conquer, (“I’ll go left, you go right, we meet back here.”) the sales staff nucleus quickly broke apart and began their descent, trailing us in both directions.

My technique at that point was to completely ignore them, mumbling or grunting short answers when they asked what we’re looking for. Dave felt this was rude, but I figure “Hey, they don’t know me. I don’t know them. I don’t owe them anything.” Besides, any minute some other poor saps are going to walk in the front door and they can have their way with them. I also kept my sunglasses on so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact. It made me seem a little crazy. All the better.

I know they work on commission and their jobs can’t be very easy with most of the people walking in and walking out without buying anything. But for crying out loud, we might have actually wanted something in the store, but we were so preoccupied with getting some privacy, we couldn’t take enough time to really see anything.

Here’s what I propose to you, Raymour and Flanigan. If you follow these simple rules, we can guarantee your sales will increase exponentially:

  1. No touching. The attack dog at the Whitehall store kept patting Dave on the back and grabbing his shoulders like they were old friends who go way back. Keep your paws off.
  2. When we have something to say, we’ll come get you. Be like polite children: Speak only when spoken to.
  3. Don’t huddle around other sales people quietly talking about who’s going to “take us on.” We can see you, we know what you’re doing and it’s annoying.
  4. No tailgating. When you say “I’ll be right here if you need anything,” stay in that spot. We’ll find you if we need something.
  5. If we ask you a question, it means we just have a question. Answer it and then retreat.

If you had followed these rules, you might have made a thousand dollar sale. How’s that for screwing yourselves over?

Stumble it!