On any other day, I might have thought a game of Red Light Green Light had spontaneously broken out in the Trader Joe’s parking lot.
But today was no ordinary Sunday. And no one had played this game before.
Where I live in New Jersey, we were just beginning Week 4 of COVID-19 physical distancing. The line of customers waiting to get into Trader Joes snaked around the ample parking lot and up a small hill to an expansive upper lot. I learned later that a neighbor or two had driven by, saw the winding line, and kept driving. It looked like a very long wait, and it was well past noon.
I too thought twice about whether to stay or go. Last night was the fifth night in a row, when I sat, staring at my laptop, after midnight. My virtual, family of five, shopping cart was full and ready to be scheduled for delivery. The tiny shopping cart icon awaited me at the sites of multiple big box suppliers and smaller local grocers. Surely, I would get a spot at one?
Five nights. A total online shut out.
So today, I donned my homemade bandana mask, protective gloves (a fortuitous purchase from a month ago when our house was hit with a stomach bug) & positive attitude, and took my place with list in hand, at the end of the line.
I sighed. Let’s get this done.
All comers in the line demonstrated an abundant respect for the 6 feet rule some even adding an additional 4 feet or so. Each of us knew what was at stake. And none of us wanted to be here.
It was less than five minutes, when I spotted a TJ’s employee, maintaining an appropriate distance, meandering along the line. She started her slow walk at the store entrance and eventually made her way to the end of the line. With her relaxed gait, arms swaying loosely at her sides, and gentle grin, she paused occasionally and answered questions from customers.
As she approached my section of the line, she informed us in a soothing, friendly, reassuring voice that it would be “about a 40-45 minute wait to get into the store.”
One person in front of me threw his hands in the air and stomped away. Green light for me. I walked forward a few steps.
I waited and walked. Walked and waited. Some strangers struck up a conversation. Some remained quiet, earbuds inserted. Twins, in their home from college hoodies, held their place in line with a conditioning workout. Varied demonstrations of coping with frayed nerves, challenging circumstances and an uncertain future. Heavy thoughts. But we all needed to eat.
After about 40 minutes, I made it to the store entrance. Another employee, in cloth mask, calmly and graciously offered a dispenser holding sanitizing wipes, “if you’d like one, please help yourself.”
Once inside, due to the careful orchestration of human traffic flow, I found plenty of physical space. Placed along aisles, signage requested that we all limit ourselves to “no more than 2 of any item. And 1 full shopping cart.” I appreciated the simplicity and clarity. A handful of employees floated around the store asking, in a warm tone of voice, “finding what you need?”
Shelves were fairly well stocked with only a few essentials depleted. Next week, I would need to come in the morning.
When it came time to check out, neon yellow tape marked where to stand, at every other register. Another employee directed me to an open lane.
Usually chatty cashiers seemed to take their cues from their customers on how much conversation they wanted to engage in--we all just wanted to get this over with.
I bagged my groceries, swiped my card and exited with a final “thank you and take care,” from another TJ’s employee standing outside.
As I loaded my car, I breathed a sigh of relief. Trader Joe’s had checked all the boxes for me. Under these unprecedented and highly stressful circumstances, management and employees put a system in place that created a memorable experience. A vendor connected with its’ audience.
Trader Joe’s accomplished what any presenter making a competitive sales pitch knows to be true. In order to differentiate yourself from your competition, you can’t just tell your client you understand what they need. Or say #WeAreAllInThisTogether. You have to show them. Through empathy, careful thought and purposeful action.
I was done with my shopping trip, but I will be back in a week or two to play again.
The game I played today was Empathy Always Wins.
Julie Campbell is the founder of Center Stage Connections
If you would like to have a conversation on how I can help you tell an impactful business story and connect with your live or virtual audience, email me at julie@centerstageconnections.com.