In today’s hyper-connected world, where I can have anything from a power drill to a little chocolate pudding delivered to my door the same day, shops have it rough. They can’t compete on choice, price or (usually) convenience, and so their single selling point is that little frisson of social interaction that lets a work-from-homebody like me feel like a functioning human for 30 seconds out of my day.
In this challenging retail environment, my local bookshop has hit on an incredible strategy: simply being nice to anyone who walks in. A jovial hello and a smile set the scene, followed by an inquiry about whether I’m looking for anything in particular that’s warmer than my interactions with some of my actual friends. Then – assuming that I’m not just bimbling about – there’s something like a treasure hunt, a look for a good book that might accumulate more members of staff, usually culminating with me buying something I’ve never even heard of before. My book budget has gone through the roof, the teetering to-read pile under my desk now posing a danger to small children and pets. I couldn’t be happier.
