I Know Why I’m Here. Do You?

Not that it’s really necessary, but I tend to reaffirm my geekiness to my spouse on a regular basis.

When I was pregnant with my first child, he gave me the chance to decide our vacation destination, anywhere in the world that our budget would allow. I choose exactly what he predicted I would, Comic-Con International in San Diego.

More recently, whenever I was up at 2 a.m. feeding our second child, he knew I’d likely be watching a director’s commentary on an episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Yes, I own the entire seven seasons on DVD. Of course it’s the special edition box set.

And if that isn’t enough, I reaffirm it each and every Wednesday, when I sit with my pile of new comics after the kids are asleep.

I’ve been reading and collecting comics for over three decades now, and realize I’m not what many folks see as the “typical” comics geek. I’m married with a family, I don’t live in my parents’ basement, and, oh yeah, I’m a girl.

This gives me a unique perspective on customer service in comic book stores. I’ve lived in several different cities and states, and thus been a regular at many different shops over the years. My colleague Richard Levey suggested a few months back that this might make interesting column fodder, so let’s see if he was right, shall we?

Good customer service shouldn’t go out the window just because your clientele can recite the line-up of the Justice League of America pre-Crisis and post-Crisis. (Don’t worry if you don’t know what that means. You’ve probably just cluttered your mind with algebra or something.)

I didn’t learn everything I needed to know about customer service in a comic book store, but I did pick up on a few things. For example:

First impressions count.
One summer while in college I walked into a small comic book shop in Newport, RI. The person behind the counter was (a) female and (b) someone I vaguely knew from school. So I expected cordial treatment at the very least. I said hello and started to browse.

“Do you know why you’re here?” she snarled.

“Um, yes.” I replied. “Do you?”

She demanded to know what I was looking for, and off the top of my head I rattled off my list, which was suitably obscure and accurate to show my fangirl cred. She looked surprised, shrugged, and then went back to reading a magazine.

When someone walks into your store (clicks onto your site, opens your catalog, whatever), make them feel welcome. They might not be regular today, but nurture them and they could be someday.

Don’t underestimate your customers’ intelligence.
About eight years ago I walked into a comic shop in New Jersey with my husband, who doesn’t read comics. Of course, the clerk immediately assumed hubby was the knowledgeable one and I was the novice, to be taken under his wing and introduced to the four-color world. The clerk spent 10 minutes giving me a monologue on things that I might like to try. My husband hovered nearby, trying not to burst into laughter as he waited for my reply.

Finally, the clerk stopped and said “So, what do you think?” I took a deep breath, walked over to the shelves and started pointing at books. “Read it, read it, read it, didn’t like it, read it, like the artist but not the writer, not into that character, he’s one of my favorite authors and I’ve read all his novels, read it, liked it, read it, read it….”

The guy turned a little pale. “You…you read comics?”

“Of course she does!” burst out my husband. “She probably knows more about them than you.”

Give your customer a chance to tell you what they want—don’t assume you know best.

A little flattery doesn’t hurt.
At a small comic book convention, again in Jersey, I was making an odd little assortment of purchases—definitely non-mainstream comics items. The gentleman running the booth asked if they were for myself or perhaps a husband or brother. Nope, they’re for me, I said.

He smiled wistfully and said, “Y’know, If I were 10 years younger and single, I’d ask you to marry me.”

Tell your customers that you appreciate them—marriage proposals optional.

Treat your big spenders well.
At a very large comic book convention in Philadelphia, I was looking to buy a large number of back issues of a comic I had recently started reading. Like any good geek at a con, I had my handy dandy little list of issues I needed and cash in hand.

I had found quite a large number of the books I wanted at one booth, and had neatly piled them next to me as I flipped through a box to look for more. I was quite happy to be about to make a large purchase.

Suddenly, the proprietor of the booth pulled the box away from me and plopped it in front of another (male) customer without so much as an “excuse me.” I stood there aghast as the schmuck lavished the male customer with oodles of attention, resulting in the sale of exactly one comic. I waited to see if he’d turn his attention back to me, or at the very least return me the box so I could continue my search.

Nope. He walked away. So I did too—to the very next booth where I found everything I needed and was treated very politely.

Know who spends money with you—and make them feel like they matter.

Make the perks relevant.
Over the years, at different stores I’ve been privy to all sorts of discount programs, frequent buyer efforts, membership clubs with nominal fee that gave access to birthday certificates, special sales, etc. But ultimately, for many comic book readers, their regular store is one chosen because of proximity to either their home or office.

I’m happy to say that my current regular Wednesday haunt is one both nearby and customer service savvy. Steve Higgins, owner of The Outer Limits in Waltham, MA offers standard comic book shop efforts like keeping “pull lists” of comics for regular customers every week (we can’t miss issues, because the world would end, you know).

But then he also does little things that make shopping in his store a pleasure—he offers e-mail and verbal reminders when comics are shipping a day late, and has started a MySpace page (http://myspace.com/eouterlimits) to keep in touch with customers and network a bit. And he’s also on occasion loaned me an umbrella when it rains, and has let me park the baby stroller by the counter while I shop. These are perks that are specific like me—but not extended just to me. I’ve never seen him be anything but courteous to a customer, whether it’s an adult buying hundreds of dollars in collectibles or a small child buying one pack of trading cards.

And that’s how it should be—be nice to your customers and they’ll be happy and loyal. Hmmm, maybe I did learn everything I needed to know about customer service in comic book stores after all.