The retail power of sitting

A. and I visited Northampton recently. I lived there for a couple of years and we've been wanting to go back for some time now—it's a nice town and we're still in touch with some friends there. Plus there's the Northampton Brewery, which is worth the drive on its own.

We timed the trip to meet with a local wedding photographer, and got together with her at a nice little café that opened up not long before I moved away. I can never remember the name of it so I call it the Woodcock, because that makes me laugh. It also makes A. laugh against her wishes. (I think it's really called the Woodstar or the Northstar or something; it should be called the Shadestar because the patio is never in the sun.) (This also reminds me of the Irish bar across from Boston City Hall that I can never remember the name of, so I think I'll start calling that the Glasscock.)

Anyway, we reasonably enjoyed the photographer's stuff, though it didn't blow us away. She's probably in the lead, but only because our first choice (talent-wise) is too expensive, and her idea of cutting us a deal was asking us to pay her in cash under the table so she doesn't have to pay taxes on it. We'll keep looking.

Afterward we walked around town a bit, sold some CDs at Turn It Up and hit some other shops. The lady loves to shop, and she loves to shop in Northampton. One thing I remember about shopping there (actually, waiting around while A. shopped there) is that many stores offer—let's just say it—the guys a place to sit while the girls look at and try on every little thing. I cannot stress enough how essential this is to a store turning a profit. I'll admit it, I can turn into a grump when I'm waiting for her to finish up, to the point where I'm sure she's cut it short a bunch of times for my sake.

But if a store puts a chair or a bench or something for me to chill out on, then I'm less likely to pester her and more likely to just wait it out. Which increases the odds of her buying something. Hell, it increases the odds of me buying something if they have an interesting book or anything to play with to pass the time. Often when we're (she's) making a concerted effort to shop somewhere I'll bring along a magazine because I know what I'm getting into. Now if you're a retailer, and you have a half-comfortable seat in a corner of the store with a slang dictionary on the table next to it (which I did flip through during one of these Northampton pit stops), that will give A. time to browse around and pick something out. And then I might get up and walk to the register with that dictionary. Now isn't that good for business?

Of course I didn't, and she didn't. But we could have.