Today I gave myself a small gift: a few hours in which to actually go into a bookstore and review a ton of books I am considering purchasing–either for the library or for my personal geek collection. I spent about an hour on the Powell’s website before going in and had made a detailed list of titles, likely shelf/aisle locations, and other notations that made sense only to me (mostly to do with pricing elsewhere and consortial availability).
I went into what I think of as big Powell’s with no problem–that place is a crazy jumbled rabbit warren full of rooms in different colors [pdf] with somewhat nebulous subsections, but it’s still somehow vaguely navigable. I forced myself not to spend $40 I don’t have on stupidly cute San-x folders and headed across the street to Powell’s 2. Powell’s 2 used to be Powell’s Technical…I think. It’s hard to tell.
There are two paths to information: Stores & Events and find a store. The Stores & Events listing for Powell’s Technical was totally broken, presumably because there’s no more Powell’s Technical but find a store told me that “Powell’s Technical Books is now Powell’s Books Bldg. 2, on the corner of 10th and Couch, across the street from Powell’s City of Books. The new space brings our mathematics, sciences, computing, engineering, construction, and transportation sections closer to our flagship store.”
Okay, clear enough. Except I didn’t look for any of this information until I was already inside the store. Why? Because the item records told me all of these books were at the Burnside location (which, in Powell’s speak, means at big Powell’s). Once I figure out that most of these books were a block over I figure I have all of the other information written down so it should be applicable once I am in the right building. Except it totally isn’t.
Since I’m an annoying librarian type I spend 70 minutes or so roaming through the store carefully hunting down my next nerdgasm. I manage to find this peculiar section called Graphics – User Interface pretty easily because the in-store online catalog (which is quite different from the website catalog) had told me it would be aisle 19 and it was. Sweet. Hm, now I am hunting for aisle 99C (which is going to be home to Engineering – Project Management and somehow is gonna contain a book about persona development) and feeling mystified because the last aisle in the store is number 30 or something (it’s a small store, this one). Along a side wall I finally find a hand-scrawled number on a piece of scratch paper taped to the shelf that says 99B. I figure 99C will surely come after 99B…but find instead 99D. I walk back and forth anxiously scanning the shelf labels between B and D, certain that somehow I have missed the next clue.
Eventually I give up and do the thing I dread most. I ask for help. I wait nervously for the info guy to return to his post because I’ve overheard several people chastised for asking at the wrong counter and I really want to avoid that apparent bookstore faux pas myself. He comes back and I ask my first question regarding the whereabouts of 99C. He leads me back to the section whence I came and aha! There simply is no sign but it’s sorta thereish in between B and D. The Engineering – Project Management section is about half of one shelf, so I’d overlooked it. He’s off and running before I can ask my next question, so I chase after him.
Clutching my (by now very rumpled) piece of paper in my hand I ask him where I might find Computer Reference – Social Aspects-Human/Computer Interaction which had been home to so many books I just stopped writing down titles and wrote down the entire aisle name, even though I was unable to find an aisle number for these using the in-store online catalog. Are you confused yet by the multiple online catalogs, aisle numbers and aisle names, aisle number schematic, room color schematics, and various other location designations? Because I sure as hell was. I got so confused that when the man stared at me blankly and said he didn’t know and started walking away again I thought it was almost reasonable. But really, it wasn’t reasonable, so I persisted until he dumped me off on a slightly frazzled looking woman after sort-of-relaying my original query.
The woman starts doing the thing I find most infuriating about store personnel…she starts walking along reading the hanging signs over the aisles to me. Yes, lady, I can read those as well as you can. In fact I have already done so three or four different times. She’s also mumbling about how the problem with the signs is that she can’t really read them anyway. She leads me back to the User Interface area and I wait to see if I had perhaps missed another small shelf, but no, there’s nothing there. I reiterate to her what the precise name of the section I am looking for is and she asks me if I have a title. I explain that no, there’s no specific title, I just want to see everything the catalog listed as being in that section. She asks again for a title and reaches to grab my poor rumply sheet of paper. I clutch it more firmly and tell her that no, there are no titles on there that are related to this part of my quest. She tells me that it would be easier for her to help me if I could just give her a title and then leads me around the store again, mumbling about the various sections my books might be in, even though they are clearly unrelated to my quest.
I finally say, “Look, thanks, but just forget it. I’ve been here for several hours now and I think I’ll just give up for today. It’s clear that there is no computer reference section in this store.” By this point I am well past the end of the work day, ridiculously past time for lunch, and about to hit the end of my rope in terms of patience. I know what it’s like to get railed on by frustrated customers, so I’m really trying my best to smile and say thanks repeatedly and get the hell out but she won’t let me. She asks yet another time if I don’t have a title to give her and I sort of lose it. She finally snaps at me, “Fine, I’ll just stop trying to help you then.”
Hallelujah. Thinking that I am going to take one last swing through the Science Reference section to see if I missed anything nerdtastic, I turn on my heel and…oh my god she is following me. She is following me around the store and she won’t stop talking and I am losing my mind. She is explaining again that she’s sorry she wasn’t able to help me and that really, it’s best not to rely on the website too much because it says a lot of things that just aren’t true or don’t exist. I walk away from her in the middle of her sentence and run for the checkout. I buy my one coffee stained used book about visual communication and get the hell out of dodge. Next time? Summit and/or half.com.
So, my lessons from the real world today:
- Just because you think your navigation makes sense doesn’t mean anyone else does.
- Themes are cute ways to organize stuff…until they’re not.
- Numbers are really useful for organization, almost everyone gets how numbered aisles work. Try not to skip about 60 numbers for no easily discernible reason.
- Random breaks in pattern are hard to understand and cause affective distress. If your convention or pattern is say, to use white lettering on black background, avoid suddenly using black marker on red scratch paper.
- Explain handoffs to the customer. She won’t understand why she’s suddenly become someone else’s concern if you don’t tell her.
- Explain handoffs to your coworker, she also won’t understand why someone has suddenly become her concern if you don’t tell her.
- Finally, sometimes you need to just let the customer escape. Phrases such as “no thank you” and “I’m going to leave” are often indicators that the customer is ready to go. Failure to discontinue pursuit past this point in time may result in beatings.