They better want it, and show me that they want it. Period.

I was cruising the blogging world today and came across the below campaign:



I'm not sure if you can see it well, but in a nutshell, it says that if we were all to spend $50 a month in mom and pop shops, we could save our local economies. (Consider that the very condensed version of what it actually claims.) I got to thinking about it, and I decided that while the majority of my shopping loyalty is required to lie within the grasp of stores that give me the best price so that my family doesn't starve, I do understand the plight of the average small business owner. I decided that my first move to do my little part, (maybe not $50, but something), would be to rent a video for my kids at my local Cosmos Video here in Kaysville instead of getting it at the Redbox, like I had planned. I knew that going to Cosmos meant spending a few dollars more for the movie than I would have at Redbox, but it wouldn't be a huge amount, and I would be showing support for my community.

I walked into Cosmos, and after being hit in the face with that charming stale cigarette smell that has been lingering in the establishment for more than a decade, I was greeted so kindly by the proprietor, who looked up from whatever show was on his television, stared at me for just a moment, and then turned back to his program. I felt like a fly that had annoyingly buzzed past his ear, distracting him briefly and causing him to hope that I didn't have the nerve to land on his arm and cause him further disruption. (The odd behavior exhibited by Mr. Cosmos was especially unsettling due to his seriously frightening resemblance to the Unabomber. That, coupled with his delightful personality, would not cause me to be surprised if I found that the two are first cousins or even brothers.) Being so overwhelmed by that warm welcome, I nearly turned around and walked back out to drive across the street to my reliable Redbox, which never glares at me or makes me feel like a nuisance. Mr. Redbox is always grateful for my business. However, I remembered my goal to patron the small business scene, and persevered.

I found the movie I came for, and then looked around a bit for another that I have not seen for a while, but always enjoyed as a child. I couldn't find it. So I gathered my courage, banished disdainful thoughts, and approached Mr. Cosmos at the counter.

"Do you have a Disney section?" I asked with massive amounts of syrup and pleasantry on my voice.

He pointed to a section behind me. Awesome customer service.

I went to find the movie, and after a minute or two, I comprehended that there was no alphabetical order, system or reason governing how the movies were placed on the shelf, other than they were all displayed before me thanks to the efforts of the all-consuming Disney Empire. I gave up and went to pay for the movie that I was able to find.

Sadly, it went down hill from there.

There was a gruff inquiry as to my last name. (Cosmos employs the index card system, rather than any kind of computer system.) I gave it to him, and he sighed. Loudly. And with an unmistakable tone of irritation. He then informed me that I had four dollars in late fees. Sheesh. Miss taking a video game back by 3 hours and they sure like to take it out of you. I handed him cash for the fees, plus the current rental, and then thought to myself, you know - Netflix has no fees. I don't think Blockbuster does either.

As I thanked him and turned to go, he uttered his first, and last, complete sentence since I had arrived. In ingnorance, I hoped that it might be a 'thank you for coming in'. Stupid of me. He said, "That movie is due back by six p.m. on Saturday." I had been chastised for my former late return. During the entire visit, there was never an expression of gratitude that I had brought him my business, but rather, I left feeling that I had imposed upon his day and that he was not at all hoping that it would happen again. I also felt that he should be thankful for my tardy return of that video game, as the late fee amounted to more than I had paid for the thing to begin with and surely there was no one waiting there in his unsavory store to borrow it upon it's return.

My whole experience there at Cosmos Video left me contemplating Mom and Pop shops versus Big Box stores. At Blockbuster and Hollywood I would have paid the same price for the movie and gotten to keep it longer. With Redbox or Netflix I would have paid less for the movie and gotten to keep it as long as I wanted with no penalty or verbal abuse. And all four of those alternatives would have expressed their gratitude for my patronage, either with a friendly smile or an e-mail.

So why, I ask you, should I be expected to support small business if I am getting inferior, if any, customer service, smaller selection and higher prices? Now, I realize that not all business owners would treat customers with such disgraceful attitudes and refuse to compete in any way with other establishments, but I am bothered by this one episode. So from now on, I will only shop in or do business with stores that make an effort to show me that they care about their customers. I understand that the lowest price is not always possible for these independent stores, but I will require that they offer me a fair price with impeccable service. If I can't get that, then I may as well go to Wal-Mart. At least there I know I will find what I want, I will be greeted by someone who knows how to smile and, in most cases, comb their hair, and I will not leave feeling as though I have been insulted and robbed.

If ever the day comes when Mr. Cosmos wants to exhibit a small amount of cheerfulness, allow me to keep his movies for the same amount of time that I could at a chain store, lower his prices, join the modern age and get a computer, organize his films alphabetically, OR lower his late fee rates to be equal to, or less than, the rental charges, then maybe I will go back. Notice how I only ask for one of those things; I'm not a complete jerk. Until he does, then I hope with all my heart that no one EVER has the audacity to interrupt his t.v. shows ever, ever again.