Dialogue: Retail therapy or selling out?

By ROANNE PARKER

It's The Warehouse's 20th birthday, apparently. I was in there yesterday, dodging the Hallowe'en clutter and the bins of liquid soap they were clearing out cheap.

Judging by the mess, I think I may have been customer 749,999 for the week, and like each of those other customers, I spent about $26. You do the maths and you'll see why Steve Tindall can afford to be big-hearted. In fact, can he afford not to be?

I bought North & South magazine there and read the whole red shed story again.

It was a bit like being in a mirror maze, or something, as I picked up the magazine with the cover story about the shop while in the shop.

I did think if it was my shop I would have either promoted the cover story or hidden it.

It seemed weird to just have it sitting in the rack alongside gossip on the Cruise/Cruz latest. I am sure the checkout staff didn't even know they were centrefolds.

You can say what you like about the red sheds, but I'll tell you something for free: don't go in there unless you know what you want, and you know where to find it yourself.

My recent experience went something like this. Me, to guy in red T-shirt: "Do you have any electric heaters?"

Guy in red shirt to me: "Uh, we did have some in the front, but they've gone now. Uh, no, we don't. Uh, [looks a bit sheepish] uh, I wouldn't have a clue."

Okaaaaay. Well, do you think you could perhaps find out for me, if it's not too much trouble, before I give the whole lot of you a jolly good slapping?

I go in there with a wince on my face and I find myself muttering The Warehouse mantra; not the one about the bargain, I mean the one that oozes out as you approach the shelf that should, by rights, hold the item you want to buy.

The plea that emerges as you contemplate the 50/50 chance that what you want isn't there and before that moment of truth, when you decide whether you will have the fortitude to approach a staff member for assistance.

"Please be there, please be there, please, oh, please, let the blasted thing be there."

Such anticipation, so much angst. A lot of goods that you find at The Warehouse can be bought elsewhere for similar prices anyway.

It's all a bit tempting going to The Warehouse - all those car parking spaces and all that shapeless, nameless stuff waiting to be bought.

There's no question it was all very avant-garde in its day.

I used to ride my bike past one of the first red sheds, in Lincoln Rd, Christchurch, and I recall thinking it was pretty cool.

But, to qualify that, we thought it was extremely cool back then if somebody's aunty went to Australia and brought them back a set of 24 felt pens.

Aunties were the only ones who ever seemed to go, and the lucky kid who got the felts was the king of the castle at school for ages afterwards.

We were a truly deprived nation, and it was understandable that we went nuts for a few years at the sight of all those racks of cheap shoes.

But, come on, it's time for a little discretion.

New Zealand is not a bulk barn on the main trunk line. Is that why are we are so keen to be homogenised?

I think I am out on this limb on my own though, as, according to North & South, a survey in a town that had just got its own Warehouse showed that 80 something per cent of the residents felt that their quality of life had improved since the store opened. Their quality of life? Ye gods and little fishes, as my gran was wont to say.

What we need to do with these people is teach them how to play tennis or something.

Instead of a sandwich in the park on a Sunday afternoon, you'll find them wandering aimlessly through the car accessory section while their children run around ripping open Pokemon packaging.

Destination shopping is an abhorrent concept and anyone using it should be dragged out through the automatic doors and shot.

Hello, New Zealand, it's time to face it: you are a sad flock of sheep, more excited about trailing through store aisles than almost anything else, apparently.

Get a grip, check your definition of the term "quality of life" and get a move on.