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Carlos Warehouse Chronicle VII - Sirens of the Store d'oeuvres

I was a Costco Member long before I was a Costco Employee. And definitely longer than working in the warehouse.

One constant that's been there longer than my tenure is the "sample staff" (Club Distribution Services) Please don't interpret the following as throwing shade but rather a recognition of a necessary evil.



Every day the warehouse opens they set up in various sections of the store to issue samples of various products, but most of the time it's food. It's a proven, battle-tested method, too. An unknown, perhaps underperforming product becomes the darling of sales for the day. Don't believe me? (Read this fascinating blog entry I read prior to posting: The Psychology Behind Costco's Free Samples)

Like sirens, they easily lure members, and their children, over to their stainless steel island with a foody call. The crowd congregates around the hair net wearing person anxiously awaiting to be fed. On the weekends, this is problematic due to the sheer volume of foot traffic. Here's a Yelp review that rants feverishly about the issue.



Not that I blame anyone in the situation. It's not CDS's fault as it's their job to serve up samples of products (e.g. not just food!), so it's not the Costco Member's fault for wanting to test out tasty treats. But every once in awhile, I am requested to tear ass through the store which dodging large groups of shoppers is much like a NFL running back making split second decision on directions trying to knife my way through the defense.

As a point of reference, I usually ignore the sirens' call for store d'oeurves. I have my personal reasons as to why I don't but I'll save those for another post. Maybe. Just think - it's more for all y'all.

However, that being said, of all the information out there, none address the CDS employee that is posted up by the back walls, or off the "race track". They have a scripted dialogue that they launch into regardless if anyone is around or can hear them.

I know, because within a week at working at the Woodinville warehouse, I encountered a stainless steel island as I was doing go-backs. In fact, I damn-near plowed into it with the cart full of merchandise. The voice startled me as it seemed out of place. Then I thought it was Mom, or God, or my sanity leaving my mind.

I spoke with them briefly after she finished up her spiel. She reconfirmed what I already knew: she'd rather be sampling a more popular product, and perhaps even food. As I walking away, I heard her cue the sales pitch all over again - all to an empty part of the warehouse.

Good luck, my siren friends. This C Note has been for them.

Keep digging,
'los; out


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