This town has got to get another department store.
Once again, I went to Dillard’s, to pick up some tights. Once again, my blood pressure started going up at the sight of the insulting feel-good signs outside the double glass doors:
DILLARD’S CARES ABOUT CUSTOMER SERVICE
If you have any difficulty in our store because of a disability, please ask any Dillard’s employee for assistance.
Inside, previously unbeknownst to me, it was sale time, which meant that every available space was, of course, packed with extra racks and tables. I found some tights (I only had to move three display fixtures to get to them, good thing I’ve got those really strong arms, ha ha!).
Then I thought I’d just look at pajamas. I picked out a couple pairs to try on and went hunting for a dressing room. Sleepwear? Nope, the accessible dressing room was being used by a mom and several small kids. Lingerie? Nope, someone in there. Dresses? Nope. Women’s Wear? Nope. At Juniors a sales associate actually asked me if I’d like a dressing room, but, sadly, her accessible dressing room was also occupado. Just wait a moment, she assured me, I’m sure it’s coming free soon.
I waited a moment. Sales associate was getting nervous. She decided to go scout out Dresses. No joy. I handed her my large pile of pajamas and said, never mind, just ring up these tights. She looked down sadly at the pile of clothes in her arms – you don’t want these? Nope, can’t try them on.
Then I went to customer service. Elderly blue haired lady asks if she can help me. I hope so, I say falsely. You know those signs you have on the outside doors? About asking for help if you need it? After a confused moment she decides she does know about those signs. Well, I say, if I were outside and needed help, how would I get it?
She stares at me for at least 30 seconds, then manages to ask me if I have a cell phone, dear?
What number would I call?
That’s a stumper. The staff door has a buzzer, she says.
Great – how do I know that? How do I find the staff door?
I have exceeded her capacity for thinking about this problem. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, except that unfortunately the fish don’t notice they’ve been shot, and they just swim away, oblivious. You should just take those signs down, I say.
I’m thinking about some sort of Dillard’s Manifesto. First I would get some sticky paper and print signs:
If you need assistance due to a disability, that’s too bad! All we’re providing is this feel-good sign. Sincerely, The Management
I’d stick those on every Dillard’s door in the dead of night. They’d catch me right away, of course, because I filled out a customer comment card complete with my real name, address and phone number.
But if they didn’t, my next sticker would say:
Dear Dillard’s Management:
Here are four suggestions, in order of expense, to solve this feel-good sign problem:
- Remove these insulting signs
- Put up a sign with directions to an accessible entrance
- Install a buzzer or intercom so a person could actually request the help you so fatuously offer
- Make this an accessible entrance
Or something like that.