My Trip to Towes...what's wrong with our society?

So…to protect the anonymity of the housing supply retail store we’ll disguise the name…lets call it Towes, yes I like that. Now, Towes if you walk to the front of this mammoth structure you notice they have a mantra, “Let’s Build Something Together”, and I thought yes Towes, yes…we will build, we will build a mighty countertop that is glorious and of such splendor the gods themselves would be honored to eat upon it. So as I walk into Lowes…err Towes, I’m awestruck by the size of this building. A couple hundred thousand square feet of testosterone feeding frenzy, and they sell everything that I can think of to help men build homes, and things that wont help them build homes…they even sell the green and yellow Cadillac’s of the yard, the sultan of lawn leisure, the king of cut… John Deere. Things instantly struck me to fall in love with this store. Towes realizes that in no way should they hide any of their merchandise, because men won’t ever ask if they have anything in the back, they’ll just leave assuming that the store is out of the certain merchandise they were seeking, and in no way would they ever stock more in the back in case they ran out…and they say men haven’t evolved. So what does Towes say, “Storage area?” “We don’t need no Stinking Storage area!” so we’ll put all 210 hammers on display for you. That way if you want to take 210 hammers, you take them with you. To me this is brilliant marketing, b/c who is our culture doesn’t love the bigger and better, and of course I don’t need the 800 paint brushes I just walked by, but I sure am impressed. Impressed already by the John Deere, and the plethora of man supplies I begin walking to search for the holy grail of countertop.

Now, once again I would like to revisit the fact that Lowes…err Towes is a couple hundred thousand square feet. So walking is necessary. As I began my walk I notice how brilliant Towes is by not placing any workers in any of the isles, b/c men hate to be bothered, and hate especially to be asked if they need help. And especially men hate to admit they are lost. Contrary to popular belief men are born with an internal GPS, a gift bestowed by the Heavenly Father Himself that keeps us from actually ever being lost. (This fact woman doesn’t understand but because of this, one thing we never need is directions.) I could be lost in the Sahara, camel dead, canteen empty, and a lady in a Winnebago could pull up and ask if I need direction and some reflex will make me say, “No, I’m fine, I’ll just keep driving…err walking and smile pretending I know where I am”. Anyway, as I walk I notice how cleverly Towes labels its isles, with one gigantic overarching general term…case in point “Tools”, “Hardware”. There are no labels on any shelves; there is nothing, just a sign that says tools hanging from the ceiling. The term “tools”, could encompass anything, b/c I consider a spoon a tool in some cases b/c it aids me in eating. I thought to ask if they sold spoons here, but I didn’t think they would understand. Honesty, did they ask an elementary student to label the isles? And as I look around I can tell I’m not the only one confused by this hi-tech labeling system. Which brings me to the second problem; the isles are roughly half mile long. So you can never tell what’s down them. I look at the people…who all have this puzzled look and they are squinting, another has a binocular out checking if the spoons are down the tool isle. Strangely, I am comforted by this that I am not alone. I think a good thing Towes should consider is a trail map of some kind for their stores, and some kind of GPS tracking system for small kids. Honesty if a kid wandered off you’d never find them, because you can’t see to the back of the store…heck you can’t even see down the isles.

So I begin my journey, feeling strangely like Froto Baggins and those “trixie hobitis” as I partake on my journey with Sam, but I have no Sam. And I come to a problem…I can’ find the Formica section, so instantly, the walk and smile reflex hits and my internal GPS is screaming. I thought, “You know I haven’t got my cardio bar in today so I’ll keep walking because I’m not lost.” As I walk I smile and nod at people pretending I know exactly where things are, that I’ve been in the store and memorized the trail map… I’m thinking to myself just two more clicks then head down the river and we should hit base camp by sunset. So I circled the store once, smiling and nodding and then half way through, and then I realize something, I don’t think anyone works at Towes. I haven’t actually seen anyone there except for 2 cashiers and someone putting carts away in the parking lot. So my legs are starting to get tired, and I stop to lean on the John Deere and image what it would be like to have a lawn mower with 2 cup holders, b/c apparently one isn’t enough, especially on those hot days of mowing. And I notice a worker with an apron, so I stroll and ask in an ingenuous way not to ever let anyone know I am lost. So ingeniously, I ask if they still have this piece of Formica in stock (I had a sample), not to let them know I have no clue where it would be if they said yes. And of course the response is normal, “I don’t know, I just started” and then they walked away.

I’m truly perplexed now by this method of sales. I thought together Lowes…err Towes and I were going to build something together, a glorious countertop. But, apparently they don’t care. So I thought, “Okay I’ll do this by myself.” Being an incredibly cunning animal, I devised a brilliant plan to walk every half mile row until I found the counter top. (You should see me hunt for my food at McDonalds if you think that is impressively cunning). As I began to walk I was taken back by how Towes claims we have everything here to help, but once you get in the store the exact opposite message is being told to us, no one there actually wants to help. And suddenly in the back on the corner behind the rugs, right where I left it…was the Formica section. This was truly in the middle of nowhere, hidden by the bathtubs and flooring. Joyous upon my discovery, and thanking the Lord for creating an internal GPS system for men only, I proudly stroll to the counter to only find no one there. I started wondering who ran this place and how brilliant they really are, with no labor, no storage, no floor paint, no fancy shelves, and only 9 signs in the whole building, there is no overhead what so ever at Towes, so these guys must be raking it in hand over fist….absolutely brilliant. It must be owned by someone like a Scrooge McDuck, and he’s just swimming in his money pit laughing right now. Suddenly someone appears, and comes to counter and I thought truly God has smiled upon me, b/c in the whole store of 5 workers; I have one of them to myself to order the Formica for my countertop.

As I place the square down, I told the young woman that I needed and 12 foot piece, or 144 inches. And out of her mouth came these strange words that I’m still scratching my head about. She said, quote “I’m the only one here”. And which I tilted my head like my dog does when it doesn’t understand. This is especially true when I am asking her about political questions and who she would vote for. I think, “What exactly does that mean?” This is the first time in my entire life I have really been stumped by a person’s response. So I responded, “So…” and then gave her the tilted dog head with the blank stare (hoping that she understood…and a FYI dogs really don’t know much about politics b/c mine told me to vote for the green party). She responded, “I can’t order it”. So I said “Okay…can anyone else here do it?” Which to my surprise she said “No”. I tried giving her the blank dog stare with the head tilt but it didn’t work. So I thought, I’ll repeat the question perhaps she’s lying or I’m on MTV’s Punked, so I said, “No one in the store can order this?” She said “No”. So I said, “What exactly do I do then?” And she said, “I don’t know”. So I responded sarcastically, “All those Formica samples you have for sale are really not for sale, you’re just teasing me?” Which I got the blank dog stare/head tilt back. And then there was silence and we both just stared, tilting our heads

So like any good Christian man, I smiled and said thanks, and began my half mile journey back to the front. Thinking all along, actually saddened by the fact that my glorious countertop will never serve kings. As I walk out of the store, I feel like a villain whose plan was fooled once again by a superhero. Today I will never build my king’s countertop, but some day, you wait….someday…as I laugh sinisterly and people begin to stare at the crazy villain as I get in my car. Now….kicker to this whole story I was in Lowes for roughly and 1 hour ½. I figured I’d try another store just for the heck of it. So I stopped by smaller store on the way home. I walked in the door someone asked if they could help, they took me to the Formica section, they had someone there to help, they ordered, printed out gave me delivery date and walked me up front to pay, and was done within 15 minutes of entering the store….. and at this I'm still amazed....perhaps in our day and age where we think bigger is better, we have missed something. Perhaps there is value in small business and personal touch, and just perhaps large impersonal corporations don’t make our life that much better, but it’s actually the people that care about you who do. Just a thought to ponder.