Unexpected

You know how we’ve become accustomed, in North America at least (where working in a retail service position is generally viewed as something you do until you get a real job — more about this below), to being served at “big box” stores by mindless drones with no real product knowledge or experience…

And yet… the unexpected sometimes happens. Twice now we’ve been pleasantly surprised by the knowledge and hands-on experience of the staff of the Michaels® crafts store in Waterloo.

Once was when K (aside: the link is to her new blog “42.1“; wabi sabi has been retired from active blogging duty, although it’s still on-line if you’re looking for her earlier knitting posts — she’s consolidated her on-line knitting presence at the shownotes blog of her Purl Diving podcast) and I were shopping for a stamp-pad to make Christmas cards. To make a long story short, the woman working there had been doing stamping for a good decade or two and provided us with very helpful guidance on which brand and type of stamp-pad would work best for the cards we were using — a heavy, textured stock in a dark red. She explained the pros and cons of the different ones they carry and said which one she preferred, and why — longevity, quality of the impression and so on.

Then, today, K was in search of some Japanese seed beads, size 6 and 8, which are on the requirements list for a beaded knitting workshop she’s attending next weekend. First, we tried the specialty bead store in Waterloo — no luck. They did have some seed beads, but much smaller than the sizes K needs.

The clerk was pleasant enough, but wasn’t experienced enough to suggest alternatives they might have other than to point out the section where there might be something that would work. Now, they do have a lot of beads… which is admittedly A Good Thing for a bead store, but makes finding just the right one a bit like the proverbial needle in a haystack endeavour.

The best she could suggest was to call back Monday and speak to the owner, who knows about beads and might be able to help. Riiight.

So, off to Michaels… but K didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything remotely like what she needed at a big box store. Still, it turned out they had some seed beads, and what’s more — they had, once again, a staff member who actually knew about beads and beading. She was able to at least find us some that should be suitable for one of the projects on the agenda for the workshop.

On top of that, she recommended a couple of bead stores in the area — well, actually, three, including the one in Waterloo that we had just come from, which we mentioned — that might be able to help us out with the other, slightly smaller size bead. We will likely try out at least one of them to see if anything suitable can be found in time.

Now, perhaps the store management at Michaels might not be too keen about staff referring customers to a competitor (albeit a small one), but in this case, we did buy some beads from them, and based on our experiences there with staff that actually know something about the products they sell, we’ll definitely be back for other purchases. In my mind, that’s a pretty good payoff for them.

Now, of course, Your Mileage May Vary and I can’t say that every Michaels will have the same quality of staff, but it’s at least encouraging to know that big box does not always equal the death of decent service.

Oh, and about the earlier observation about service jobs being looked down upon in North America (and with some justification… can you say “D’ya want fries with that?”), it’s in contrast with what we experienced when we lived in France for several years (and had the opportunity to travel a bit throughout Europe, as well). There, service jobs, at least the ones where you don’t ask “Voulez-vous des frites avec ça ?“, are still respected and reasonably well compensated. As a result, you get people doing these jobs who enjoy it, who are knowledgeable about the field and are proud to serve you professionally.

Miss that, a lot. Ah, well — small finds like the staff at Michaels keep the flame alive…

IED in the oven

Bit of a scare today — while K was making dinner, her trusty Pyrex® baking dish became an IED. Here are a few photos of the aftermath:

Here’s what had been roasting in the dish:

Sigh… would have been a great dinner, there was a roast chicken from the grocery store to go with the roast veg (you may not be able to tell from the photo, but there were potatoes, carrots, sweet potatoes and onions) and as well K was baking a lovely acorn squash. More on the squash in a bit…

When I got home, the oven had cooled enough that we could clean up a bit — enough for K to throw together a quickie soup made from slices of the chicken added to some store bought broth with some pucks of Chinese noodles simmered a few minutes to soften them through. A few seasonings and it turned out to be tasty and filling, if not as good as the planned meal would have been.

I decided to Google for “exploding pyrex” just to see if her experience was unusual or not. Judging from the results, apparently not. I looked at one site in particular, ConsumerAffairs.com, which had an article titled “Pyrex Panic” — it certainly had been for K.

The truly amazing thing in the article is the attitude of the VP from the parent company of Pyrex®, who said in a letter to ConsumerAffairs.com:

“We want to assure you that neither PYREX glass bakeware nor other glass bakeware ‘explodes.’ Glass does not explode but it can break. As glass bonds break, people may hear a noise and be surprised.”

Now, remember the squash I mentioned above? It was baking in the oven at the same time as the veg; both were in 9″x13″ baking pans/dishes — the squash, halved, was sitting in a metal pan and, well, you know what the veg were in.

The Pyrex® dish was on the lower rack and the squash in the metal pan were above them on the upper rack. And we had to pitch the squash in the recycle along with all the veg from the broken dish — a complete waste of good food and hard earned grocery money (we’re still getting back on our feet financially after my recently ended bout of unemployment, so wasting money is especially grating; you can read about my Adventures in Job Search Land in the archives).

Oh, and the reason why the squash had to be tossed as well? There was at least one piece of glass in the bottom of the metal baking pan, and no way to tell if there were any more lurking inside the squash. Do ya’ feel lucky, punk? Only wish I’d had the presence of mind to photograph that too… I blame it on the stress (and mine was fairly minimal compared to K’s, who had been steadying the dish with one hand — gotta love those Ove Gloves — while stirring the veg around with a plastic cooking spoon when it broke — it pretty much scared the… <insert your favourite expression for what gets scared out of you at times like these> out of her, and the fingers on the hand that was holding the dish are aching)

So, if Pyrex® doesn’t explode, I’d like that VP to explain to me just exactly when they managed to perfect teleportation…