Why you gotta be like that?

Is it a requirement that to work in a sewing shop, you have to be a total snob?  I mean, I get it, you probably own the shop or work there because you’re really into your craft.  But seriously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk to everyone whom you perceive to be at a lower skill level than yourself.

I’ve gotten it at my otherwise-favorite local fabric shop.  The owners are nice and I have taken classes there with friendly teachers.  But there’s at least a few people who work there who give me the stink-eye or mini-lectures every time I go in there.

Come on, now! I came in to PURCHASE something from your shop. We share similar interests. Would it kill you to be nice to me, even though I am clearly inferior to you because I don’t hand-piece or hand-quilt? I know we have different tastes. I know you’re clearly better than me at applique.  Yes, you’ve been quilting longer than I’ve been alive, blah blah blah.  But do you have to treat me like a second-class citizen? I’m paying the same price as anyone else for that fabric, so give me a break.

And yes, sometimes I bring my toddlers into the shop. I’m a stay-at-home mom without a babysitter and you close before the kids go to bed, so I have very few options. Nine times out of ten, I have them in the stroller and strategically administer snacks while I dart around trying to find what I need as fast as I can.  And one time, when I brought them in without the stroller, you didn’t have to act like I was bringing in the plague.  Yes, they touched the thread and named all of the colors. But they did not actually disturb anything, throw things around, or in any way cause the slightest destruction.  And they used the toys and books you have hastily thrown in a basket in the corner, and then we put it away before we left.  Don’t treat me like a damned criminal.

My husband got a taste of it yesterday.  He was out shopping for some shoes, at a store that happens to be next to the shop where I got my sewing machine.  I called and asked him to just pop in and check on the prices of a few higher-end machines, mostly for my own (morbid) curiosity.  Talk about giving the stink-eye, the women in the shop all but said “are you sure you’re in the right place?”  My very friendly husband said that he had been sent on a mission to ask about three machines, and did they carry them?  “Well, we’re an authorized Janome dealer, so we carry them all.”  Okay…. well, can you tell me how much they cost.  “*exasperated sigh, not bothering to move from her stool* Well, just off the top of my head, this one costs x, this one is about y, and that other one is a professional-grade machine.”  Okay… well, I’m just asking because my wife told me to.  “*more exasperated sighing* Well, if it’s not on sale, blah blah blah, it costs about x.”

Thanks for nothing, ladies.  Here’s a perfectly nice man asking a perfectly reasonable and straightforward question. For all you know, he had a huge chunk of change burning a hole in his pocket and would have bought the most expensive machine in your shop as a surprise for his beloved wife (OK, maybe not, but a girl can dream).  But you had to go and be a jerk to him.  What kind of business practice is that?

And you wonder why I shop online.

/rant