Be A Better Whiskey Ambassador - Part Deux

In 2019, I wrote an article called Be a Better Whiskey Ambassador. It captured my thoughts on how some “knowledgeable” folks treat others when they ask questions. That, of course, was pre-COVID before we were (mostly) confined to our homes.

 

COVID changed us as a society, and not for the better. People became more antagonistic and aggressive, not just as keyboard warriors, but on the phone and, shockingly, in person. It is as if, by (temporarily) taking away unfettered access everywhere, society lost an ability to think and act reasonably and respectfully.

 

The pandemic restrictions were not fun. My parents, who live in a retirement community, were under lockdown for months with no one but people providing essential services allowed on the campus. That meant no visits from family members. I believe it accelerated my father’s dementia.  My friends who own or manage bars had to get creative by selling their stocks of whiskeys, cocktails to go, etc., to keep paying the bills despite being shuttered. My friends who owned or managed liquor stores – while they could keep their doors open, several confided in me they were miserable. Aside from schmucks berating store clerks for enforcing a mask mandate they had no choice to follow, some customers acted over the top in their ridiculousness.

 

And unfortunately, even though restrictions have been lifted around most of the country, the bad behavior of entitled “customers” (I use that term loosely) has remained. This lousy behavior caused me to write the second chapter of Be a Better Whiskey Ambassador.  This installment involves brick-and-mortar versus online activities.

  

Hello/Good Morning/Welcome/Hi

My liquor store friends have a common pet peeve no matter what part of the country they occupy, and that is people who walk through the front door and ignore the person behind the counter. Then, those “customers” start peeking over the counter to see where the Blanton’s is.

 

When someone greets you as you cross their threshold, why would you not acknowledge the greeting? How difficult is it to smile and say, “Hello” or “Thank you” or something similar instead of ignoring them? And, who, exactly, do you think you are when you’re leaning over their counter trying to see what they’re hiding?

 

The easiest way to curate a relationship with someone at a liquor store is to treat them like human beings. Smile. Wave. Say “Hello.” Ask them how they are today. You know, like civilized people used to do.

 

Do You Have Blanton’s?

 

You walked through the door treating the clerk like a piece of furniture, and now you’re expecting to be rewarded for it? Even if they had whatever you were looking for, you don’t deserve it. Yes, I said deserve. I’m not even talking about managers or owners reserving stuff for their “best” customers. It takes a huge set of cojones to ignore a fellow human and then ask for something special.

 

And, understand that you’re not the first person to walk through the door today to ask if they have any Blanton’s. You won’t be the last.

 

Don’t Accept “No” For An Answer!

 

Rather than accepting the likely truth that they don’t have Blanton’s in stock, some entitled folks will accuse the person behind the counter of lying. “I know you’re holding some in the back; just sell me a bottle!”

 

I don’t know about you, but the civil portion of that conversation has ended the second someone accuses me of lying. Most people would accept that they’re not going to score a bottle of whatever and leave. Yet, some refuse to do so.

 

Just for fun, suppose you can see a bottle of something allocated on the floor next to the clerk’s foot. The next step into the incredulous is to start harassing and threatening them. If you think I’m joking, I’m not.

 

Store owners and managers have related tales to me of overly aggressive customers who instruct the clerk that they have a right to buy that bottle they see. The store must sell it to them or break the law (much as they did while citing make-believe laws that they didn’t have to wear masks during a mask mandate).

 

I’m not a lawyer, nor do I play one on television, but I’m pretty sure that unless they’re violating your civil rights, a store employee has the right to refuse service to anyone. And, your butt-hurt over not getting your Precious is not a violation of your civil liberties. So, by all means, call the cops. You’ll save the person behind the counter from having to make the call themselves.

 

The Truck Just Arrived, They Delivered Blanton’s

 

Then you have the people who go a step further. They know the delivery routes of the distributors and follow those trucks around town. Of course, they’re optimistic that there wasn’t just White Claw and Tito’s on that truck – the store got a delivery of allocated whiskeys, too. And, perhaps they did.

 

I’m not aware of any responsible businessperson who sells things before taking inventory of a delivery. But you’d be wrong if you thought people didn’t expect a store clerk to drop what they’re doing to search for something allocated, or worse, badger the truck driver about what they’re delivering and then following that truck to the next stop.

 

We Hate Whiskey Hunters

 

This statement is a common thing I hear from folks in the business. Believe it or not, most of the daily sales your average liquor store experiences are not whiskey-related. It is typically beer and vodka (or, these days, hard seltzer). They’re at the point where our over-the-top, bad behavior has made us unwelcomed guests in their stores because we treat them like garbage. Their wine, beer, vodka, gin, absinthe, liqueur, etc., patrons aren’t harassing them. But whiskey hunters are.

Whiskey Karma

 

I’ve walked into unfamiliar stores, returned a friendly greeting, and had the person behind the counter tell me as I headed down the whiskey aisle, “We don’t have anything allocated.” A friendly conversation typically begins when they learn that I’m not after anything hard to get.

 

I’ve had store owners who, although they’d never seen me before ten minutes ago, have invited me to the back so they could pour something nice. It may not be allocated, but maybe it is a store pick or perhaps a sample of something that a brand representative dropped off. But they do that because I’m respectful, genuinely interested in them and what they do, and I’m not coming across as someone phony trying to butter them up for a nice bottle.

 

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it a million times more: there is a thing called whiskey karma. If you do good things in whiskey's name, that good is returned in kind. I’ve been very blessed by whiskey karma; it results from my efforts to build relationships, which comes from being respectful.

 

Be a better whiskey ambassador. Repairing the damage begins with you.

 

Cheers!