The Power of a Compliment

My parents bought me a pearl necklace and earrings for my birthday. Actually, they sent me a check and I got to go pick them out. It was the best experience I've had in a long time.

I didn't know where to go, thought that an independent jeweler would be out of my price range, so after doing my online research, I went to Macy's for some clinical education on pearls. I was helped by a woman who was very nice. She didn't seem to mind my obviously un-millionnaire outfit, and spent time showing me several necklaces. I was only there to learn about pearls that first day, so I thanked her and left. I went back another time, but she wasn't there, and no one helped me or asked if I needed any help. I left again, a little disappointed. Today, I had decided to not let indecision get the better of me, and to go ahead and buy one. I headed to the infamous South Coast Plaza, thinking that they might have a larger inventory to choose from. I had been out to dinner and was dressed up a little bit, so I thought I looked rather decent. They say when you are going to buy quality items, you want to look the part so that they treat you as if you are a real potential customer, not a window-shopper or a dreamer. Or a thief. My outfit did nothing for me though, as no one even cast a glance my way in the ten or so minutes that I eased around the cases of jewelry. I left, somewhat bitter at the pretentious Orange County merchants who wouldn't even say hello to someone who might want to spend money. In the Bay Area, thanks to the dot-com boom, many merchants learned that they could never know which sloppily dressed Joe Shmoe might be some wealthy programmer that was ready to buy out the store.

Despite the snub at South Coast Plaza, I did still want to get my birthday gift, so I headed to the original Macy's that I had been to before. I found the nice lady, Valerie, still working late on a Friday night. She was very sweet again, helping me and letting me try on whichever strand I wanted. She was an older aunt- or a young grandmother-type woman. We looked at different strands and mused over them together, she calculated with the sale discount what my final price would be, and gave me time to make my decision. When it came time to ring me up and open a new credit card to get me that extra discount, she wasn't so keen with the computer. Her co-worker, a very bejeweled, make-up-wearing, perfectly coiffed man with a bracelet that declared him to be "Blair," took over the computer and impatiently showed her how to do the transaction. He was slightly curt with me as well, but Valerie didn't seem to pay much mind that he was trying to hurry her up, and happily wrapped the necklace up for me. She made the whole experience rather sweet and sentimental, like a motherly figure, celebrating with me and lending a symbolic bent to my purchase. As I left, I beckoned her to lean over the counter and whispered, "I'm so glad it was you that helped me." She gave a little squeal and squeezed my hand tight, delighted and a little flustered, and said, "Oh, come back and see me, won't you?" It made me nearly tear up later when I thought about it, she was so happy. On my way out, I asked to speak to the managers. When I told them that Valerie had been so wonderful, they all lit up - with real, genuine smiles - as if I had personally praised them. As I walked away, I could hear them saying, "Oh, how sweet!" and "What a nice thing to say!" It might be a sad commentary on the ordinary clientele that they were so excited about a simple compliment.

I have my hunches that Valerie is working at a department store because she needs to augment whatever Social Security income or small bit of savings she might have. She didn't seem like she was trying to ascend the corporate ladder or get extra commission by rushing me through the transaction. She was simply very sweet, and treated me like my purchase was special to me. It didn't matter to her that it might take a few extra minutes to help me. Unlike buying a pair of socks, buying jewelry is a personal experience. Blair was technologically competent, but the interaction with Valerie is what I am going to remember. I felt powerful that I was able to make a perfect stranger feel so good with just a few words of thanks. I'll think of Valerie every time I wear those pearls, and it will make me smile every time.