What immediately drew me to Larry, a dapper and vastly responsive sales guy in “men’s furnishings,” was his response when I asked him whether he had a tape to measure my arm for a new shirt.
“Look at my face!” he said. “Look at my face! Of course I have a tape. Forty years I had my own shop and you ask this face whether it has a tape? Give me your arm.”
Nice face, pink and happy, darkish eyes looking over the tops of the glasses, blue oxford shirt, silk patterned tie in red, a little twisted out of shape. An intent face. A face that said, “I’m going to sell you a shirt and it will fit very well.”
I was looking for a nice lavender shirt to wear with my black suit for a weekend event that requires some dressing up. I pointed to my neck and said, “18” and he guessed 34 to 36 on the arm, depending on how much cuff I wanted to shoot.
“People need to see the links,” he said.
The arm measured 35. We settled on a 36-inch sleeve with a French cuff. Not lavender, but not pink either. Close to lavender, to my mind, although someone with some color sense would look at it and say: “What, someone poked your eyes out? It’s pink.”
I was shopping because my inner shopping girl (All men have them but rarely respond to them. I find the experience fabulous.) told me I should find something nice to wear with my black suit.
I have tried white shirts with my black suit, but that makes me feel, somehow, Hassidic, a look I admire, frankly, but not for Irish guys in their 50s. I have tried black wool turtlenecks, but they make me look like an advance man for the devil or, perhaps, a Jesuit. (There is a difference.)
I have tried blue shirts, but they are a cliche.
I have worn colorful golfing shirts, even though I was banned from golf as a youth. Too informal. Colorful T-shirts create the same problem.
I call the color of my new shirt “lavendink.”
More about Larry.
Christmas is coming, and after you have made your decisions about how much money you will contribute to United Way for the holidays (This is, indeed, a plug and you should make sure you contribute this year because people need help), you are probably going to be dealing with some salespeople.
I have not had good experiences with salespeople over the past few years, with the exception of wizened pros in some old-line kinds of retail places, stores that pride themselves on service and seem to make an effort to help.
I’m not that connected to fashion.
“Which side do you dress on?” I was once asked by a tailor.
“The outside,” I replied, showing all of my sartorial sophistication with just one answer.
Lots of places you get frazzled people who just don’t have much time to respond at all, beyond taking money or credit cards, or worse, people who are not familiar with so many things, language and inventory being the top two. They are not going to be measuring your arm.
Larry, however, was different. I asked him what people should expect of their sales folks this Christmas season.
Without even a second’s pause, he said: “The moon! And what they should get should be beyond the moon!”
He walked to the shirt table and grabbed an Ike Behar that looked as though it were just waiting for my arrival. “This is going to work. It’s 36. Want a tie?” I told him that I already had ties.
Larry says he loves being a salesman and always has. Suits were his specialty when he was working in his own shop. Now its “furnishings,” which seems to encompass a vast range of potential purchases.
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There were two important things about this transaction.
The first is that I never bothered to see how much the shirt cost. It was lots more than I have ever paid for a shirt. Somehow, I didn’t mind. So this big, famous Old Orchard department store should find its Larrys and give them a huge hug and a bonus. That’s how good he was.
The second thing was the stories.
On the outside, Larry might be all about arm length and hand and cut, but inside, he’s got stories from his feet to his eyebrows, tailor stories, salesman stories, “My wife, she …” stories. It never stops.
I am the first person to admit I love the efficiency of buying stuff on the Internet.
But I’m thinking my Larry experience has changed me.
Some would argue the era of service is now just about dead. But every once in a while, you run into someone who recognizes what it’s all about and plays his role like a Barrymore.
If you are fortunate this season, you will run into someone like Larry while you are shopping. You should thank him, first, for being so engaging. Then you should write a note to his employer and tell the company what a pro he is and keep that happy thought as you climb into your new lavendink shirt.