A Matter of Perception

My partner and I went to a dozen stores on Friday, looking at carpeting, countertops, flooring, and other items we will need to do a remodeling of our kitchen in August. I went dressed like this -- well, same camo BDUs and combat boots, but just a plain black t-shirt (I don't really think they would understand what a "bootdude" is LOL!)

We live in a rather wealthy community. Many of the people who shop in the stores we visited dress the part of a yuppie (because they are the part), in their khaki slacks, boat shoes, and golf shirts with some animal on it. They drive up in their Lexus or BMW or Mercedes or Infiniti, and walk around like they own the place.

When you go into a store like that dressed like I was, you are treated differently. The store sales people think you're a contractor. If you can get their attention (a big "if"), they speak to you as a normal person. They use more technical language, and instead of offering "solutions," they talk more about "what you need to get the job done."

I witnessed that when I asked for a price on a certain item and then a golf-shirted sockless-loafered yuppie asked for a price on the same item, my quote was lower... significantly lower.

I have learned that while you can live among the wealthy, if you don't want to get ripped off, don't dress like them. I don't like that style of dress anyway, so it doesn't matter.

Further, I was driving my nephew's old beat-up pick-up truck. I had to haul something to the dump (sorry, our wealthy county calls it a "transfer station"), which isn't far from some of these stores. The truck was more useful in hauling the debris that I had to get rid of. When you arrive at a store by means of an old beat-up truck dressed in BDUs and combat boots, the store personnel instantly form an opinion that can be useful to obtain better pricing on some items.

That is, of course, IF you can get their attention. In one store, a yuppie drove up in a high-end SUV and walked into the store at the same time I did. Three sales clerks fell all over themselves to ask him if he needed any help. No one talked to me. I finally had to go tap one of them on the shoulder to ask a question. Her reaction was as if I had leprosy. If the situation were not so funny, I would cry.

Anyway, next time you have to go to a store to buy something that could be rather expensive, go in an old beat-up truck, dress in your grubbiest clothes and boots, and see if the same thing happens to you. You get better prices provided you can get attention.

Life is short: go grubby! Grrrr!