I
don’t get it.
Well,
that’s not true. I do get it. I just don’t like it.
Terry
and I were out running some errands today, and we were in a store
that routinely has about a quarter of its inventory available
as part of the current-offer-for-whatever-day-it-is 50% off sale.
That
is not an exaggeration. Half price for a huge portion of the overall
products available, in the store and likely online.
The
sale rotates a bit. These items this week, those items next week,
and some items when the holidays and seasons change. But eventually,
just about everything except batteries and some brand name product
lines will be included.
Let
me bring you in on a little secret though. The items that are
available at 50%-off or included in the 25%-off any regular price
items coupon? They tend to be so costly at the regular price point
that there is no way you would ever buy them without the sale.
This
isn’t a candy bar for two dollars, or buy two candy bars for three
dollars kind of thing. This is more of a candy bar for fifteen
dollars, or this week get two for five dollars. Who is buying,
even on impulse, a fifteen-dollar candy bar?
Never
mind the expensive chocolate. What I’m saying is that the regular
price in this store usually isn’t a true price. It’s a misleading
label designed to get you to believe that you’re getting a great
deal from the sale, when in reality the sale is just bringing
the price down to what you would have expected it to cost all
along.
And
that ticks me off.
I
don’t like to wade deeply into negotiations. Tell us what you’ll
pay, we’ll make a counter offer, we can meet at some point in
between (and don’t forget to pick up the added protection service
plan). In some cases, I know to expect this approach, and I can
haggle. But I’d much rather you tell me what it costs and I’ll
decide whether or not I’m willing to pay that price.
But
that’s where the problem resides.
See,
if they tell me what it actually costs, then I can start comparison
shopping. I can go to another store to see what they offer. I
can do some research online. Heck, I can probably even order it
for less on the web, get free shipping included, and have it brought
to my door. There’s some convenience in that process.
I
also tend to be a tangible shopper, where seeing and looking over
an object means a lot to me. You can never tell if clothing size
is running smaller or larger than you expect on your computer
screen, nor does the fabric quality readily make itself known
in the cyber world.
So,
I like going to the store. I like seeing things in person. And
it feels like no one wants to make my part in the purchase easy.
There’s
a reason different chain stores carry different name brands of
manufacturers, or, carry different models of products. And, regardless
of the specific sales pitch or technique, all of the factors and
business plans can be found on display in the 50%-off sale and
discounted-from-regular-price item coupon. They don’t expect me
to shell out the high price. They just want me to be satisfied
with the price I paid.
It’s
a mind game. And I think the thing that annoys me isn’t that it
is a mind game, it’s that many businesses today aren’t even interested
in getting me to return.
I
used to know the names of the folks making food for my family
at local restaurants. The specialty stores, like hardware supplies,
could be trusted to carry the parts I needed to keep the equipment
they sold me operating. Experiences like that are becoming less
and less common.
And
I’m left checking things out online or on the store’s app, looking
to time my shopping run to best match up with the sale dates.
I suppose that’s better than paying full price, but it’s not as
satisfying as being valued as a customer.