Or, two skeptics in Big Bazaar ...
When we got a parking place just outside the Big Bazaar, I should have guessed it. I mean, either Mr. Murphy or Anti-Murphy is blessing us. Well, Big Bazaar isn't our favourite shopping destination any day, though we try to gain entry once a while. We never like the experience as a whole, as by the time I am in, I am already pissed off by the circus I have to do to just park my car. After that getting out of the place is another test of patience, because the checkout queue would take forever to move. And in between you'll find the cheaper version of the product will not live upto your expectation anyway, so you have to choose the premium ones. So. I was looking to buy a cellphone; from a place who'll buy my old one back and offer a new one cheap. Unfortunately though my old phone was a big entertainment material for the staffs at mobile phone counter, they said they can't honour the antique value of it. "Someone offered me 1500/- for this", I protested. "Even if you don't want it, give me some discount so that I can buy a phone from you!" They didn't seem to care, so I decided to leave. On our way to exit, we were checking out things that had big red label of "SALE" attached to it. "5 copper-bottomed tupe at 545/-", I thought "that's not a bad deal". Close examination proved to be disappointing, they are made of so thin sheet that will never stand chinese style stir-fry. "This is why I hate this place", Sumana murmured, "I can buy a lot of stuffs cheap but can't really use them!" I sympathized with her, and finally instead of walking out empty handed, we picked up a sunglass for her. Finally assuring big-bazaar is getting some business out of us!
After the usual credit card swipe and slip exchange exercise, the guy at the checkout counter jumped clapping. "You are one of the every 50th customer! Your shopping is free!" he informed in a cheerful tone. I was more concerned about the money he charged already. "Will you reverse the credit card charge?" I asked, as if that is the last major hurdle for the materialization of the offer. "No, we'll reimburse you in cash", he said. I whispered to Sumana "Oh wow, 5 reward points, plus some cash! Saves my imminent ATM visit".
The fun began. We were escorted to some lounge, shook hands with 16 people, and they announced in PA that "here is one more customer whose entire shopping is going free". Then they got us sign a document full of legal jargons, which essentially says we're irrevocably authorizing Pantaloons to use our name and photograph for their promotions blah blah. "We are celebrities", I whispered, "I wish I didn't wear this ugly T-shirt when coming here".
"Please say a few words", a marketing manager passed us a chordless mic. "Say something," I delegated it to Sumana, "I am chocked with emotion". And to my surprize, she handled the situation much better than I could. "Well," she cleared her throat, "Big Bazaar is a nice place. You folks have huge collection of stuffs," and seeing the appreciative smile of the audience, she went overboard: "I like to come here often!". "What!" I couldn't believe my ears. She continued her all praise about the place, and how satisfied we are with our shopping experience everytime we come. "Pfffft ..." I couldn't hold my skeptic laugh anymore. Thankfully she turned off the mic at the right moment. Then a snap was taken, and they promised us we'll be in newspapers tomorrow. Via advertisement.
I tried to peek at the list of beneficiaries of the scheme, but without too much success. The previous guy who cracked this got a benefit of 488 rupees. I didn't see a four digit number. We got around five hundred. "Doesn't look like anyone made it big", Sumana commented as we were on our way to exit. "All it takes is a small bug in the software," my cynic mind was at work, "after 50 people goes out, flag a guy whose bill amount is <500 bucks. That way you keep your promotion running at a low cost. It'll cost per customer 10 rupees. And the feel-good factor is much higher when one customer gets that discount, with a punch-line that the whole bill is re-imbursed".
"I wouldn't have paid for this anyway", she told as we were pulling out of parking. "The design isn't good, and the lens isn't monochromatic. See I can see rainbows on the clouds". I couldn't see her eyes because the glass seemed to be too dark.
When we got a parking place just outside the Big Bazaar, I should have guessed it. I mean, either Mr. Murphy or Anti-Murphy is blessing us. Well, Big Bazaar isn't our favourite shopping destination any day, though we try to gain entry once a while. We never like the experience as a whole, as by the time I am in, I am already pissed off by the circus I have to do to just park my car. After that getting out of the place is another test of patience, because the checkout queue would take forever to move. And in between you'll find the cheaper version of the product will not live upto your expectation anyway, so you have to choose the premium ones. So. I was looking to buy a cellphone; from a place who'll buy my old one back and offer a new one cheap. Unfortunately though my old phone was a big entertainment material for the staffs at mobile phone counter, they said they can't honour the antique value of it. "Someone offered me 1500/- for this", I protested. "Even if you don't want it, give me some discount so that I can buy a phone from you!" They didn't seem to care, so I decided to leave. On our way to exit, we were checking out things that had big red label of "SALE" attached to it. "5 copper-bottomed tupe at 545/-", I thought "that's not a bad deal". Close examination proved to be disappointing, they are made of so thin sheet that will never stand chinese style stir-fry. "This is why I hate this place", Sumana murmured, "I can buy a lot of stuffs cheap but can't really use them!" I sympathized with her, and finally instead of walking out empty handed, we picked up a sunglass for her. Finally assuring big-bazaar is getting some business out of us!
After the usual credit card swipe and slip exchange exercise, the guy at the checkout counter jumped clapping. "You are one of the every 50th customer! Your shopping is free!" he informed in a cheerful tone. I was more concerned about the money he charged already. "Will you reverse the credit card charge?" I asked, as if that is the last major hurdle for the materialization of the offer. "No, we'll reimburse you in cash", he said. I whispered to Sumana "Oh wow, 5 reward points, plus some cash! Saves my imminent ATM visit".
The fun began. We were escorted to some lounge, shook hands with 16 people, and they announced in PA that "here is one more customer whose entire shopping is going free". Then they got us sign a document full of legal jargons, which essentially says we're irrevocably authorizing Pantaloons to use our name and photograph for their promotions blah blah. "We are celebrities", I whispered, "I wish I didn't wear this ugly T-shirt when coming here".
"Please say a few words", a marketing manager passed us a chordless mic. "Say something," I delegated it to Sumana, "I am chocked with emotion". And to my surprize, she handled the situation much better than I could. "Well," she cleared her throat, "Big Bazaar is a nice place. You folks have huge collection of stuffs," and seeing the appreciative smile of the audience, she went overboard: "I like to come here often!". "What!" I couldn't believe my ears. She continued her all praise about the place, and how satisfied we are with our shopping experience everytime we come. "Pfffft ..." I couldn't hold my skeptic laugh anymore. Thankfully she turned off the mic at the right moment. Then a snap was taken, and they promised us we'll be in newspapers tomorrow. Via advertisement.
I tried to peek at the list of beneficiaries of the scheme, but without too much success. The previous guy who cracked this got a benefit of 488 rupees. I didn't see a four digit number. We got around five hundred. "Doesn't look like anyone made it big", Sumana commented as we were on our way to exit. "All it takes is a small bug in the software," my cynic mind was at work, "after 50 people goes out, flag a guy whose bill amount is <500 bucks. That way you keep your promotion running at a low cost. It'll cost per customer 10 rupees. And the feel-good factor is much higher when one customer gets that discount, with a punch-line that the whole bill is re-imbursed".
"I wouldn't have paid for this anyway", she told as we were pulling out of parking. "The design isn't good, and the lens isn't monochromatic. See I can see rainbows on the clouds". I couldn't see her eyes because the glass seemed to be too dark.
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3 comments:
"congrats" :-P
I keep telling mom that most of these offers are sham marketing - who listens ! To make things worse, she does seem to become uncannily lucky ... no wonder I never get to see dad's credit card bills :-D
luckily i don't go shopping !!
Congrats!
I never win such things.
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