By Susan Davis

I like to think I’m a smart, well-informed consumer, and that I have a conscience. I watch the news, I read the papers, I see the documentaries. And I’m appalled. I’ve learned that huge, sell-everything-under-the-sun stores are bad. That they squeeze their suppliers hard to sell their products at such low prices that the companies can’t make a profit and they go out of business. And they are able to keep their prices are so low because they no doubt buy from companies that work 7 year olds 15 hours a day in factories in third world countries.

They put poor mom and pop stores out of business. They crush the spirit and wreck the economic base of towns large and small. Then, if profits aren’t high enough, they high tail it out of town, leaving the town with a decimated economy and empty storefronts on deserted main streets.

I know all this. I sympathize with all this. I think all this is terrible. So I try to buy from local stores. It just feels like the right thing to do. I’m even willing to pay a premium for what I anticipate will be old time, personal service. But I’ve run into a few problems.

For example, I wanted a basket for the bike I recently purchased from my neighborhood family owned and run bike store. I paid more – a lot more – than I would have at a humongous sell everything store. A few weeks later I ride it over to the store to pick out a basket to go with my shiny new bike. I am ushered over to the basket section, point to the one I like and ask the price. “Just a minute,” the salesman says, “Wait here, I’ll find out for you.” Nice store, nice salesman, nice, warm feeling that I’m contributing to the local economy. Except that he doesn’t come back. Finally I go searching and find him chatting away with the owner of the store, the guy who sold me the expensive bike. “What happened? You left to get me a price and never came back,” I say. “I’ve been standing there for 10 minutes.” Was the salesman embarrassed? Was the owner concerned? Did I get an apology? Oh no. What I got, from the salesman and the owner, was a hearty “Ha, ha, ha, we forgot all about you. We left you standing there!! What a hoot, ha, ha, ha.” So, I rode my bike back home, got in the car, and drove ten or so miles to a big, evil, store. There was a large selection to chose from, low prices and a helpful salesperson. I was treated with respect. I bought a basket.

Then there’s the local hardware/paint store where the clerk was so busy reading the paper that he couldn’t be bothered to help me find the right (unusual) light bulb for my antique lamp; he just pointed in the general direction of the back of the store. I never found what I needed. He never offered to help. I found a bulb at the big home decorating store in the next town.

You get the drift, yes? If you want my business, treat me with respect and offer good service. Please, give me a reason to stay in the neighborhood. Don’t send me into the arms of the kind of store that will probably put you out of business one day soon.