B & H Photo

I’d heard about this place, and happened across their store in our neighborhood while out adventuring on Tuesday.

Wow.

This place is big, which is amazing for a store in NYC. It’s probably the size of a good sized grocery store in North Carolina, and employs primarily Orthodox Jewish men. That in itself wouldn’t seem unusual except that they tend to dress traditionally so most are wearing a yarmulke (the little beanie, for you Baptists who are confused) and have the curly locks on either side of their face.

The other thing that might hit you as unusual if you were shopping there is that they close the business by sundown on Friday and don’t re-open until Sunday to observe the Jewish Sabbath.

For those who haven’t been there, think “Best Buy”, but maybe without refrigerators or appliances or movies. Those things might have been there, but I didn’t see them.

They have tons of customer service reps, who, unlike many of those at big box stores, were actually able to answer questions about the products and make recommendations. I went in with the new video camera I mentioned earlier – the one I can’t operate – looking for a protective lens cover. It has a manual cover which I forget to close part of the time, usually before putting the camera in my coat pocket. I want to keep from getting fingerprints all over the lens.

I walked in with my camera. A nice security guard directed me to the area for the things I needed, and there were all types of Disney-esque ropes to keep the potential hordes of shoppers organized at each of the counters, where there were actually staff available.

The young man who helped me – Shaya – had a typical New Yorker’s brusqueness, but wasn’t unpleasant.  He interrupted as I started my explanation.

“Gimme da camera, lemme see.”
“Yeah, we got dat. $10.00. Here.”

Now, many times that would have ended the transaction. The clerk, having given the minimum attention required, could dismiss me and go back to their other tasks.  That's what would have happened in most big box stores

But he then asked, “Have you got a carry case for it? We got dees for $10.00 you want a blue one to match the camera?”.

Breathing between sentences is apparently unnecessary, as he could get the words out during the pauses so prevalent in a southerner's speech.

I loved his accent, if you can’t tell. Each potential purchase was followed by lightning-fast entries onto a computer keyboard and the merchandise being pitched into a green plastic bin.

He then talked about the camera, how it was a decent model for the money, and asked, “You got one o’ deese grippers?” meaning a flexible tripod that can be wrapped around things to steady the camera.

As it happened, I didn’t, but I wanted one.

“Here, lemme check, I tink we got blue ones, make it all match up for ya’s.”

More entries in the computer, and as I get out my credit card he says, “Don’t pay me, pay up front.”

I start to reach for my selections, but he’s pitched it all in the bin and says, “Take this (handing me a register receipt), it’ll be waiting for you up there.” He then puts the bin onto a conveyor belt, where I watch it cycle through this series of different belts and trolleys that look like something off of a Bugs Bunny Cartoon. After a few seconds, it’s gone out of sight, lost in the maze of the contraption and among the dozens of other green bins that are circulating.

I make my way to the front, listen to the directions that tell me to go to the next lighted cashier where this Lilliputian young lady is barely able to see over the counter. She rings me up and gives me yet another receipt. I then got directed back to another counter (wait for the light again) and give them my paperwork while a little grey haired man who communicates only in monosyllabic grunts goes back to find my bin which has magically appeared with my merchandise. A quick count and I’m on my way out the door as he says the only word I recognize -- "Tanks."

It sounds much more confusing than it really is, but it was pretty fascinating to watch. It was wonderful to experience a sales clerk who was knowledgeable about the merchandise and was obviously there to encourage me to buy stuff. After all, he up-sold me from a $10.00 lens cover to $35.00 worth of stuff. 

It was also a pleasant experience to be recognized by the staff through a glance, nod of the head or other greeting as I walked through the store.  No less than five people asked if I needed assistance.  For all the talk about how rude New Yorkers are, it wasn't happening in this place of business.

I “beeped” as I went out, so the security guys looked in my bag, talked about how the thing went off all the time and sent me on my way, again with a pleasant exchange.  No accusations with their eyes or attitude, just a routine thing that happened all the time.

It was great to be in a store that had enough staff to meet the customer’s needs, where they weren’t busy talking with each other about last night’s dates or rolling their eyes over how you were inconveniencing them by actually coming into the store. The transaction was not rushed, but certainly didn’t take any longer than necessary. It was exactly the way I learned to treat customers when I worked retail at Montgomery Wards years ago.

If all stores learned to treat their customers this way, they might experience a bit more customer loyalty from them.

I’m certain that I’m now on their mailing list, so I’ll undoubtedly be back in the future, either over the internet or in their store.