If I did yet another blog post on us going to the mall, would you cry a thousand tears?

I know going to the mall is for most a prosaic experience at the best of times. I like it, for reasons passing understanding. There's something penetratingly social about going to be with other people who generally, are there for recreational purposes.

I even like grocery shopping. Weird, huh?

Anyway.

It was late night shopping tonight. No, wait wait...let me back up a bit. For those of you not from Australia, here's the deal with our retail: shops in suburban malls shut around 5:30pm. Sometimes six. Usually a little earlier on Sunday. But on Thursday night, they're open late (nine pm). In the city, shops are open till nine on friday night. Don't ask me why it's like that, it just is. I know what you Americans are thinking...'they shut at five thirty??? Is this Communist Romania?'

I'd love it if they opened later. But alas. It does make thursday night shopping a little more fun. Everyone turns out the same night. I like being around people.

This will become more fun in about a month, when the masses pack themselves in, the dear little sardines, by the tens of thousands, into malls around the country, doing Christmas shopping. It'll be crowded. It'll be cramped. It'll be frustrating. It'll be sweaty. It'll be an experience where I test my morals - if a little old lady and I are both spying the last thing do I say 'Hey! Look over there, a skunk!' and then grab the vase and high tail it toward the checkout?

I can't wait! I already know what I'm getting Mrs Speech.

Anyway.

So today, Thursday night, late night shopping. A beautiful dusk greeted us, palm trees darkened against a baldly pale azure sky and a temperate breeze that was pure perfection. See, it doesn't have to be entirely prosaic.

I wish I had gotten a picture but Mrs Speech and I were racing to get to the post office which was closing soon.

Mrs Speech needed to mail off a couple Jesse Tree Ornament sets to people who purchased from Mrs Speech's shop.

By the way, to the people thus far who have purchased from Mrs Speech, thank you! We appreciate it. Your ornaments are either on their way to you, or hopefully you have received them already!

We had tea at the mall. Garden City has two food courts and a few little cafes and stuff dotted here and there, plus a recently renovated outdoor dining area with like seven restaurants, an ice creamery and a sixteen cinema megaplex.

We got some cheap Subway, and headed to Big W, which as I have mentioned previously, is much like Wal Mart.

I'm totally ready for the Christmas season. Man, knock me over with a sledgehammer. And I think Mrs Speech is getting there too, because she enthusiastically joined me as we went through all Big W's lolly (candy) aisles, preparing for all the holiday chocolate we'd be buying each other.

They have these awesome little gastronomical gift sets too. Like the rectangular tin of biscuits with a mini pool table and cues and pool balls on top which you can actually use to play mini pool! How awesome is that!! Also there was a pizza kit, with a stone tablet, round cutting thing and serving thing, and one of those stone pesto grindy things. I know, not too specific.

There was an Angry Birds themed chicken kit. ie, it had BBQ chilli sauce and things like that. I reckon the birds would get angry if they knew that their destiny was some dude's plate, with BBQ chilli sauce adorning them.

I want to give a shout out to Mrs Speech's family and their almond-selling business. We came across various nuts, one of which was French Vanilla almonds. Mrs Speech loves French Vanilla coffee. I got to wondering if she'd like French Vanilla nuts. Hmmm.

We then got to roaming up and down the Christmas aisles. I've posted previously on them, they're loads of fun. Crummy nick-nacks you can make fun of, post on your blog and laugh at, alongside economical, traditional Christmas creations to replace the old stuff you don't want to let go of.

It's all good value, if you're not looking to spend $17.99 on one chilli pepper bauble (see video above), and I'm sure we'll roam up and down the aisles many more times. Sometimes we walk out with a little something.

The nutcracker marching band men were positively creepy; I don't know who in their right mind would want one of those spooky little buggers ominously peering down at them from the mantlepiece during the holidays. Maybe it's to scare the kids away from shaking the presents under the tree.

Mrs Speech loves the Nativity Scenes, and they had little Nativity figures which were quite nicely done. Not the exquisite creations which make your debit card cry, but humble I guess. Nice.

They have some weird stuff...I've posted about the sparkly purple reindeer which would have to fight me in a bar somewhere like John Wayne in order to get through my front door. Mrs Speech picked up and then quickly put down a small, cartoonish dragon.

We wandered around Big W some, then headed out.

Earthborn is a nice place to wander through. It's patently feminine and sounds like a place for clay potters who love the environment, to come together in hippy harmony, but for some reason I enjoy browsing it. They have these massive clocks, seriously, two feet tall. If they needed a replacement for Big Ben, one of these would do. Anyone putting one in their lounge room would need to retreat to the kitchen just to properly read the time.

But they're definitely a lefty place. Buddhas, lots of flower petals, some real, some not, and self-motivational wallboards like that one to the right. I call nonsense on that stuff. But regardless. I bought Mrs Speech a large silver old-school milkshake cup there a few years ago, which I monopolised because I drink more at one time than she does, and I've been trying to find one since without luck.

Earthborn usually does good business because they price quite well and the staff are pleasant.

We moved on to JB Hi-Fi, and played with some of their new tablets. Love those things. They're so instantly addictive. Looked at some of their cameras too, for the purposes of maybe getting some better shots for Mrs Speech's shop. I'm amazed at how they've come down in price over the years.

Coles was up next as we did a little shopping then headed out.

On our way though, we came across a wonderful sight: Garden city has finally put up its tree! See top of post.

And, although it's connected to their crud Santa's workshop, it's still nice to see. It must be thirty feet tall, with lights and bauble-tinsel and the anticipation of yes, yet again, it's that time of year.

Great way to end the night.

So yesterday Mrs Speech and I painted the mall red. Well, maybe not red. Well, maybe we didn't paint it. But we definitely went to the mall.

Mrs Speech wanted to mail off some Jesse Tree Ornaments that sold from her shop. And since I'm a Christmas junkie, I wanted to see what the mall was doing for Christmas. Mrs Speech had told me that the decorations were up and that excited me.

Can't wait till Christmas. Only 58 days left, you know.

So, it was a beautiful day - Brisbane has these gorgeous spring days where the sky sings in colours of blue that will blow your mind, and the clouds are lost somewhere. Just blue, everywhere. Amazing. Hot, too. It must have been about 30°/90°-ish, and if you're out there too long you'll get a tan. And, dry. Brisbane's wet humidity yucky summer will come later. Yesterday it was a southern dryness.

Stepping into the mall in Brisbane's warm season is awesome...it's a bipolar temperature experience that shocks your body. From the sweaty bubble of get-me-a-drink-now, you step past the automatic doors and the discomfort slips from you, the airconditioned dryness enveloping and loving you.

Welcome to the mall. Let us make you comfy. Now spend some money!

So it was yesterday.

Okay so they have their decorations up. I wasn't really impressed. I think they'll up their game closer to Christmas but for now, some garland with silver stars and baubles, sparsely placed here and there, isn't making me feel holly jolly.

When Christmas gets closer and they really want to milk it, they put up their massive Christmas tree at the top of the mall and their Santa's workshop thing where you can sit on some strange guy's knee and get your picture taken with 'Santa'. I'm gonna write a post soon about how my childhood Father Christmas at the mall experience beats any of the undercooked imitations I've seen since. But suffice to say, it's nice when Garden City puts their tree up. Their Santa thing doesn't do it for me.

Anyway, we took care of mailing off Mrs Speech's packages, then hit the puppy store. There's a petshop which, as a very simple and effective marketing ploy, puts its puppies front and center. People crowd around the window. It's absolutely joyful to watch but also sad: they always look so cooped up, like they just want a new home. I tell Mrs Speech that they'll get sold soon.

After that we had lunch. We somehow got two six inch Subway subs and a cookie (Mrs Speech loves some cookie) for $8.10. I'm not really sure how that happened. I thought it'd be over ten bucks for sure. I don't mind Subway as a healthier option, especially since I could lose some kilos. Ham salad, on white?.........okay!

Following chow, we headed to Big W. Mrs Speech always refers to Big W as Walmart. Probably because of the W. Also, it's a variety store (no supermarket) of the same ilk. Mrs Speech says they're basically the same but I think Big W is a bit nicer.

They've put a few Halloween icons up in a cursory display - pumpkin, witches hat, spiderwebs I think - but Halloween's not special here in Australia. We don't make much of a thing of it, in fact, it gets less significant each year, which is odd because we're becoming more American, and it's a huge thing in America. If you're American, feel free to comment and let us know your Halloween traditions. I'm curious.

Big W has totally rolled out their Christmas stock though, which is fun. They keep their chocolates up front, a big department of multiple aisles of sugary temptation, and beyond, their Christmas stuff.

I tell you, you haven't experienced Christmas without the purple glittery reindeer (see post linked above), or pink glittery Cinderella shoe or blue glittery ball mask, or evil talking dog (we got one) or black Christmas tree. See left for pictures.

We got some baubles because my baubles were handed down and were bought during the Ford administration I think. When Mrs Speech moved here she didn't have enough space for baubles, so mine are all we have. And they need replacing.

We also got five 7 metre rolls of wrapping paper for $1.50 each which I just thought was filthy.

Y'know something I don't get, is why stores that sell DVDs don't have like, a Christmas section. Wouldn't they sell more if there was a display with all the favourites? White Christmas? A Christmas Carol? Jingle All The Way, even? (But not Bad Santa. Or The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause.)

We futilely searched Big W's many movies without finding a Christmas section. I'm in the mood for cheap Christmas movies!

Then came the sports department. They've set up a hoop and backboard and I grabbed a ten dollar basketball and literally worked up a sweat, shooting. Haven't done that in ages. The ball kept ricocheting off of bikes and cardio trainers and Mrs Speech covered her eyes as it looked like I was going to destroy things. We moved on.

Our feet were gettin' sore by this stage so we headed for Coles (supermarket) which is always last before we go home. Mrs Speech picked up some more felt for her ornaments in Riot Art n' Craft, I wandered through JB Hifi as I do, and then, Coles.

They have the same superfluous Halloween display as Big W. Mrs Speech looked covetously at the pumpkins, which I would definitely get her but where in America they're 99c or something, a whole pumpkin here is $14.00.

However, their Halloween display did allow me to channel my inner Cap'n Jack Sparrah!

To my delight, Coles has their Christmas puddings out. I love Christmas puddings. Mrs Speech tells me that Americans hate Christmas puddings and they're considered evil and don't you dare offer any to Americans because you can get put in JAIL for that!

Maybe they're an English thing. We love 'em. I put custard and warm mine up and oh, yeah.

Our holiday season is going to be interesting this year - we're having Thanksgiving with some other people, some of whom are American, so Mrs Speech only has to make one big meal this year (we are contributing vegetables to Thanksgiving). We were going to just do turkey hindquarters for Christmas but Mrs Speech is now gonna do the whole bird. So that's nice.

That was pretty much our day. We got home, worn but happy, and an hour later a tropical storm hit (not unlike this one).

Welcome to the hot season, Brisbane style.

It was back around, ooh, February I think.

We were at Dick Smith, which is an electronics store here in Australia. I was doing my bricks-and-mortar research on computers, having already done the online kind and gotten in the ballpark of what I wanted.

Mrs Speech and I wandered around the laptops. The tech specs for each machine were on A4 flyers tucked underneath in little pigeon holes, only they had been mass-misfiled and no flyer matched the computer it was underneath.

We spent ample time looking confused. No help was forthcoming.

Finally I sauntered over to the checkout, and asked for help. The girl had dyed hair and a facial piercing I can't quite recall. No biggie. She can look however she wants as long as she helps me.

"So, I'm looking for abc computer, with an xyz graphics card."

"Um, okay."

"Can you help me find that?" She wandered over to the flyers and began to sort through them, her apathy bleeding through every sigh and unpleasant facial expression.

"Um, you can look at the flyers. They show what the computer has."

"Yes, I did that...they're mixed up."

"Um, okay. I don't know." She looked through more flyers and began half-heartedly rearranging them. That was going to be a twenty minute job. She had this passive-aggressive thing going on that suggested I was taking up her time.

"Do you work in...computers?"

Seriously, am I keeping you from something more important?

"No. No-one works in any particular department anymore. We all do the whole store."

Well................dandy.

Long story short, she reluctantly found someone else to help me, who knew what I needed to know. We left without making a purchase.

Is there anything more omnipresently irritating in modern western consumer life, than bad customer service? Is there anything that can, as consistently, get you to grind your teeth in frustration?



We were recently at the mall. We ducked into the chemist to find out how much some bandages were. Our local pharmacy is awesome and sells them on the cheap.

We hit the first aid section and squeezed past an older lady customer who chose to not move even though she had ample room on her side of the aisle. Again, no biggie. She was obviously distracted speaking to the pharmacy employee who was assisting her.

Mrs Speech and I tried to find the bandage for a couple of minutes. I think we looked appropriately lost and in need of help, displaying all the signals:

• Shrugging shoulders
• Looking around aimlessly
• Picking up various items, looking at the packaging, then putting them back
• Shaking head
• Mumbling things like, "no, I guess they don't have it."

Pharmacy employee was three feet to our right when this occurred. But when she had finished helping older lady, she turned on her heel and left. You'd have to be a goldfish not to pick up on the signals we were displaying.

Then there was the girl at Rebel Sport (I'm not picking on the girls, honest. I've had some fantastic service from women over the years). We were looking for running shoes as our walks were taking on the hardship of one of those brutal twelve hour triathlons.

I waited four feet from her, holding a shoe I wanted to try on. Aren't they supposed to acknowledge your presence, you know, sort of "I'll be with you in a minute" ? That sort of thing? When we finally got her attention she was lovely but before then I felt like the invisible man.

Watch me invisibly walk out the door with a pair of shoes I haven't paid for. Then see how quick you pay attention to me.

This is a serious issue beyond personal irritation. Australian retail did not get the jump it wanted last Christmas. For the past couple of years sales have been sluggish, even though our economy is strong.

But when you can buy most anything online and save yourself time and money doing so, why would you drive to your local, put up with parking issues (Westfield is charging to park at some of its malls), crowds, rude gen-z schoolies, and all the rest of it, just to be ignored, sighed at, patronised and otherwise passively neglected?

Power Retail pulls no punches. Australian businesses suck at customer service. They're awful. They don't bother.


Kids come up through the ranks of the fast food franchises learning personal organisation and point-of-sale technique. But they don't learn how to be professional in their service. It can be like talking to an eggplant, some of these kids. I was the same way when I was fifteen. You have to teach them.

If not, they become part-time salespeople in their early twenties who fumble with flyers under computers while demonstrating that you are absolutely, taking up their time and HOW DARE YOU DO THAT.



After Mrs Speech and I left Dick Smith, we visited another computer retailer named Harvey Norman. They had a computer I was interested in. Salesman could see I was interested.

I asked if I could spread the payments out over layby rather than put down the whole amount at once. No deal.

How come?

"Well, computers are you know, advancing so quickly, you could you know, get two months into a layby, change your mind, and then, you know, we're stuck with an obsolete machine."

Uh-huh. If computer technology truly advanced that quickly, the friendly android from iRobot would be sorting our socks for us by next year.

That layby thing is a policy issue and Harvey Norman has its own set of management concerns that will do them in, in the end. They're run by an older dude who frowns upon this internet thing as a way of snagging customers and who generally exudes a crusty, inflexible attitude to retail proceduralism.

Then there was the time - I can still make Mrs Speech laugh while acting it out - before we were married when we were in Chicago for the day, and we wandered into a jeweller, browsing for engagement rings.

Kind saleswoman showed us one or two, and as soon as we expressed the slightest interest (literally five minutes in) she plopped a block of in-triplicate forms on the counter and proceeded to sign us up for a payment plan.

To this day, when I'm walking through a store and a salesperson asks if I need help, I think of that moment, look them directly in the eye and tell them I'm just browsing around. They back off.

I can seriously think of a dozen similar stories to share but after a while I think you'd be even more bored than you perhaps are now.



But eveyone's got 'em. I don't know you but I know you have similar stories.

And it's killing the retail sector. As I said, if the cost and convenience of shopping online isn't enough, poor service will absolutely destroy brick and mortar. It's the last straw.

It's flipped completely and become a buyer's market and former icons are suffering for decades of inaction on this vital issue: treat me well, and I might return. Don't, and you'll see the back of me quickly.

Don't call me mate, or luv, or - if you ever want a sale from me - 'darl', don't try to be my friend, DO wear appropriate clothing to work, don't push extra stuff on me I don't need, don't ignore the signals.

Your business depends on getting cash from my wallet to your till.

One of my earlier experiences with customer service was when I was at university. I came back from a lecture one day and stopped at a cafe in the Myer Centre. They had good lasagne and I was feeling mildly Romanesque so I rocked up to the counter.

There were two trays of lasagne: the one on the left looked like it might have been rejected by the starving kids on a World Vision commercial. Curled and cloyed together as with glue that pre-schoolers use, its pale,dry rancidity was eclipsed in pure desperation by the steaming pan it was still sitting in.

As though the fact that steam rising from it could convince a guy that it was still fresh.

Pan on the right had new lasagne. Legitimate steam rose from its freshly cooked cheese, neatly cut squares of Italian delight topped with non-wrinkled tomato.

Said to man behind the counter, "Can I get a lasagne, please."

He begins to plate up the stuff from five years earlier.

"Um, actually...d'you reckon I could have some from that newer pan?"

He looks at me challengingly.

"do you want it or not, mate?"


That cafe is no longer there.

Yesterday was a busy one for us.

For starters we had to go see the local bureaucrats. Now on a scale of one to ten, going to see the bureaucrats is a big gritting my teeth and pretending there aren't half million things that could more usefully occupy my time.

But we did, and the bureaucrats told us to come back because the paperwork wasn't quite correct, and so an hour and a half in which we might have solved world hunger went begging.

After that we ran a chore for Mrs Speech. She had to get some scripture references printed up for the awesome Jesse Tree Ornaments she is selling. We found some classy, gloss paper, thick too and printed up a bunch.

The place we printed them up is technically within the same complex as our local mall but sits on the other side of the carpark. So, we hiked back and before sunset in a while landed in the mall. Mrs Speech threatened to eat my ear if I didn't give her food so we stopped at Subway.

Well, Mrs Speech sat. I stood in line. After the bureaucrats I didn't want to see any more lines. I hope there aren't any lines again for the rest of my life.

I also bought Mrs Speech a cookie. Her mood picked up. When in doubt, buy the cookie.

From there we went a-wandering, lazily checking out the shops and their wares. To my absolute joy we found that shops have started with their Christmas decorations. This is great news for me. I'm a Christmas junky. I Love Christmas. When I was kid I loved it because I always got lots of presents. I was an only child and very, very spoiled. He-Man. Micro Machines. Matchbox Cars. Lego.

These days I love it because since becoming a Christian I more fully understand its meaning; the joy of Christ's birth is no longer a mystery. What is a mystery is how presents were once the only thing of meaning this time of year. Nowadays July isn't gone before I start longing for the carols and the mall decorations and the lights on people's houses and even the dumb commercials satirising Santa.

I can't wait, because two thousand years ago, a rustic town in the middle of a scrappy backwater Roman province saw the birth of a baby who makes all things new. And Christmas time makes it easier to focus on that, I think.

I get that the shops only elevate Christmas in order to extract more money from us. I don't care. They have their reasons. The saviour endures regardless.

We wandered through David Jones, which is one of those places. It has a small-ish section set aside for their $21.95 baubels and their $299.95 wreaths.

"I'll have one wreath please. And no Christmas presents at all this year."

Big W has a couple of smaller aisles dedicated to the *cough* more budget-conscious among us. Mrs Speech gave me the look and suggested we buy new Christmas lights this year.

We usually come late to the party with Christmas lights. The ones we have are thirty years old and although I like them Mrs Speech...doesn't. But, by the time we get around to checking out new strings, all the good-value ones have been snapped up by folks who don't spend September to early December debating whether or not the lights we have are adequate. By that time I steadfastly decline to spend thirty dollars on lights.

We got some ten dollar ones and Mrs Speech was happy.

I like wandering through Big W. Mrs Speech always calls it Wal-Mart (must be the W) but I've been in Wal-Mart and Big W is a bit nicer. Plus, Mrs Speech once found a pink blender that I'm still kicking myself for not lay-bying for Christmas. It's not around anymore.

Also Big W has a huge range of lollies (candy). Aisles and aisles and massive jars of Nutella, too. Smack-bang at the front of the store, sweet sentinels of chocolatey goodness (badness?) daring you to pass.

Just TRY to get through to toys and electronics. See? You CAN'T!!!

But as I said, I have WILL. Sort of. Somewhat. Kind of.

A little later on we passed the little shop in the middle of the mall concourse, which sells foreign lollies. English and American. The prices are criminal but once or twice a year for a treat........you know how it is.

Mrs Speech found American breakfast cereal there and almost wept from nostalgia. She hurried past me to take pictures.

I soon sensed Mrs Speech was gonna need some refreshment so I bought her a hot chocolate at Gloria Jean's. They make good stuff. One day we made the mistake of going to the Coffee Club which is where the senior citizens prefer to hang out. I felt like I was at someone's bi-weekly bridge game with bad hot chocolate.

Gloria Jean's is dark, exotic, with moody cosmetic touches that make you feel like part of the in-crowd. But you better have a tablet and be browsing on their free wi-fi and know the difference between Columbian and Mocha Colombiana or for goodness sake, GET OUT!

Nah, they're actually very friendly. Which is why we go back.

We capped the day off with a ritual visit to JB Hi-Fi (my favourite electronics store) and some grocery shopping. At which point I noticed that my feet were destroyed.

Never understood how that works...you go to the mall to relax, walk around a little and by the end of four hours your feet hurt. How's that?

Maybe it's the flip-flops I wear.