In the Chicago area, Jewel (aka, Jewel-Osco) is a very prominent grocery store chain. I am finding a new favorite place for my routine trips to the grocery store.
And I’ll tell you why: piss-poor practices, processes, and service.
Let me tell you the straw that broke the camel’s back: Chad.
Chad works a checkout line. He mumbles. So far, Chad is not unique. On my last visit to Jewel, Chad was even less personable to me than usual. The reason for his increased indifference to me was the attention he was paying his young, nubile bagging assistant.
The order of the Chad:
- “Preferred card?” Or he may have said “Furred car” which makes no sense to me, but I’m not a teenage boy in heat.
- No eye contact. With me. Oh, plenty with Aphrodite, but none with yours truly.
- When my little in-store Jewel coupons were shat out by the machine, Chad pushed them in my direction. He did not pick them up, did not hand them to me. He pushed them at me.
- He held out my itemized receipt at arms’ length like it was a dirty sock. He didn’t make it easy for me to grab. It was almost like he was playing Keep Away with me.
- When I got home, I discovered one grocery bag with a variety of such things as a bar of soap, eggs, cabbage, and ammonia.
Nicely done, Chad. I would invite you to go to Hell, but I don’t know where that is anymore. It used to be in aisle 5B…