Pardon Our Dust

   The final chapter of Riley's Trick Shop is being written as we begin to move forty years of accumulated stuff to its new location. Whether it's going to our new store in Palos Hills, the garbage dump, or the recycling bin, everything must go. As we've take down shelving that hasn't been moved in almost four decades we're finding a few interesting things such as items we haven't seen since Carter was President, but mostly we're finding dust. Huge dust bunnies are everywhere. As I was sweeping up another one today I realized that it probably contains the remnants of my parents, my kids, everyone who's ever worked for us, and all the customers who have supported us over the years. Dust is merely skin that's been shed, after all. We profusely thank everyone who's made a contribution to the pile.
   When the dust has settled, the story will be a comedy of errors befitting a business like ours. Right now, with all the dust in the air, it's hard to see the final outcome. You, the gentle reader, will hear about it later.
   What I can say for sure is that we're moving to 8086 W. 111th St. in Palos Hills, across from Stagg High School. We should be open on or about June 1st. How we're going to do that is anybody's guess and should be fodder for another blog post.
   We're changing our name to Riley's Tricks and Gifts. A good portion of our business comes from the purchase of presents for birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, and Christmas. We wanted to reflect that part of the business in our new name.
   So please stop by our new home. We'll be glad to see you. Maybe by then I'll be able to tell you the whole story.

Please Take "No" For An Answer

   Our T-shirt machine, the Brother GT-541, does a great job a great job printing on T-shirts, pillow cases, bibs, aprons, and other kinds of material. It’s basically a steroidal inkjet printer that sprays the ink right on the garment. Once the ink is set, it will never fade or run. It becomes part of the material and will last as long as the item it’s printed on. And therein lies a problem.

   Because the ink goes into the material instead of on top of it like silkscreening, it doesn’t show up on dark colors. Black, maroon, forest green, navy blue, and other darks are right out. Red, kelly green, royal blue, and other semi-darks will look good printed in black only. Computers do not print white.       

   Now that you’ve tried to print white with your computer, read on.

   We have a regular who comes in insisting that his paving company be the one to repair our “driveway” as he calls it. He’s actually talking about our parking lot. Yeah, it needs work which would cost about what we pay in property taxes every year. Until the Crook County assessor gives us a pass one year, the parking lot’s not getting done. This guy says he’ll give me a “good deal” on sealing and striping it and making it look nice. Yeah, nine hundred bucks for some black spray that’s gone in a year. He’s a good salesman, though. He won’t take no for an answer and keeps pushing until I walk away or it’s time to close.

   He won’t take no for an answer in regard to T-shirt printing either. When he comes in to harass us about the “driveway,” he brings “sweaters” for us to print. They’re really T-shirts but he calls them sweaters. No, I don’t know why either. Invariably, they’re black. Just as invariably, I tell him we can’t print on black and he asks me why like we’ve never had this conversation before. I offer the same explanation I always have but he persists.

   “What about white printing?” he asks.

   “Computers don’t print white,” I counter.

   “What about red?”

   “Nope.”

   “Blue?”

   My job is not to turn business away but there are some things that I’m just not able to do. Exasperated, I administer what I think would be the coup de gras to this encounter. “Listen, my printer has the capacity to print every possible color and variation of color you can imagine, none of which will be visible on a black shirt. There is no color that will work on black.”

   Instantly, he counters with, “What about yellow?”

   Raising my voice, I respond, “When did yellow stop being a color?”

   This had him stumped for the moment but I could see he was formulating a comeback. Just then a customer walked in and I greeted him like I’d never greeted a customer before. He had a request that I could fulfill and I ignored the other guy until he picked up his “sweaters” and went away.

   The point of all this is: we try, but sometimes we just can’t do what a customer asks. This is true for any business. Our job is to help you get what you need and we’ll do whatever it takes. It pains us when we can’t help you. If we can’t give you exactly what you want, it’s not because we’re lazy or indifferent, it’s because we just plain don’t have the capability to do it.

   

Is Technology Making Us Dumber?

   Not long ago I got a call from a customer asking for directions to the shop. Now, I’ve successfully directed people from Milwaukee, South Bend, Peoria, and every point of the compass since before navigation systems were invented. I know how to get someone here from just about anywhere.
   These days, navigation systems are standard on some cars. You would think I’d never have to direct another customer again, but they still call. I guess it’s easier just to make a call than look it up on google maps or, God forbid, unfold a paper map before setting out. This particular lady was close enough that it was a matter of one or two turns. No GPS required. I gave her those directions, she thanked me, and hung up.
   A little while later she called back on the verge of tears. It was getting close to closing time and she was “hopelessly lost.” A simple instruction like “turn left on 111th” appeared to be too much for her. She said she desperately needed something and asked me to wait for her.
   When your store sells fake poo and artificial vomit, you’re not selling needs, just wants. Still, I played along. I asked where she was. She didn’t know. What direction was she heading? Not sure. Can you see the sun? It’s cloudy. Then I asked if her car had a navigation system. Yes it does. “Hallelujah,” I thought. “I still might get home in time for supper.”
   Here’s where it got strange.
   “OK,” I said, “just enter our address: 644...”
   “I can’t,” she said.
   “Why not.”
   “It won’t let me.”
   “Is it broken?”
   “No, it won’t let me do it while I’m driving.”
   “So just pull over.”
   Her response was silence, as if I’d been speaking in a foreign language. For some reason, pulling over and entering an address didn’t appear to be an option for her. Moving her attention from the road ahead while driving was a better option than doing it from the safety of a non-moving vehicle.
   It seems the more our devices try to save us from ourselves, the more we try to circumvent their safety features.
   I don’t know if she ever made it. Supper was calling and I knew how to get there.