After a brief search, I asked a Countdown attendant to point me in the right direction. A wave of studied introspection washed over his face as he searched the inner recesses of his brain in an attempt to locate the likely aisle where Complan could be found.
Suddenly his face became animated. Bing! A light went off and a solution had been found. As we stood together, undoubtedly only metres from where the sneaky shelf of Complan was secreted, I was told that the best way to find it would be to go home and order it online.
Really? That was the best way? To leave the supermarket where I had (quite cleverly, I thought) managed to locate myself while sporting a small baby, return home, log on, search for the item, type in all my credit card and address details, then drive back to the store where a person very much akin to the one currently standing in front of me would have been deployed to locate the Complan and put it in a bag for me to collect at the checkout?
Normally, I'm not one to disagree with the advice of experts in their field but, on this occasion, I felt the need to do so with the Countdown attendant.
Seeking out the counsel of another of his ilk, I was helpfully led to aisle three, where the Complan was tucked away next to vitamins and other supplements. After barking up the wrong tree entirely by combing every inch of aisle five (milk powers et al), this made perfect sense. Hindsight is a beautiful thing.
It is testament to the power of the internet that it doesn't seem that long ago that only the brave among us were prepared to purchase anything online for fear of sending our private credit card details into the big bad worldwide web. Now online retailing is so ingrained that even those employed to help me spend my money in-store are sending me home to my laptop.
In another incident that beggars belief, I recently went to a shop in search of some not-quite-standard camera gear. They didn't have it in-stock but, instead of suggesting they order the product and therefore collar my cash, I was told that the best way might be to Google the product and buy it online.
Best for me, perhaps, but arguably not best for the guy paying the sales guy wages to make sales.
Only this morning, my mother complained that she was having trouble finding my column online every week.
I pointed out that if she bought a paper now and again she would not only solve this problem but also help keep my job viable in a world where newspaper circulation is falling victim to online news consumption.
Just because something can be bought or consumed online doesn't mean it should be, especially in regional New Zealand, where retailers need our full support if they are to stay viable. It's not just shoppers who need to be reminded of this, but also the people whose job security depends on the front door staying open.
