Scents of a dying industry

A rich and exotic scent drifts out of a doorway, carrying with it hints of the warmth of jungles and bustling cities, and conjuring up images of mouth-watering curries. This is what I smell almost every day, as I pass the little Indian corner store on my way to the train station.

We’re a small suburb, and though it’s nice, people aren’t queuing up to buy spices. Over the last year, there has been a trend of small stores in our area closing due to lack of business. The food stores have held on up to this point, but as our expenses go up, we spend less, just trying to make ends meet, and slowly these stores can’t break even.

More and more, the cheapest prices are in the big grocery stores, who can afford to make price cuts, and soon enough, unless they’re lucky enough to buy into a business that has outside backing, such as food store franchises like 7 Eleven and IGA, these little corner stores will go the way of the dinosaur.

And what a shame that will be. In a world where value and convenience are at our fingertips, with nothing more than a click of a button or a swipe of a card away, where do we go for that real interaction that used to be a part of every small store? Some of my best experiences of customer service have been in corner stores. Where they greet you by name and know your usual orders as soon as they see you.

I read an article recently that suggested that the experience of shopping could be enhanced by personalised service based on data collection – what you buy, where, when and how. It immediately conjured images in my head of robot servers in a future supermarket who greet us by name and comment on our food choices. “Good morning Bob, I see the diet’s not going so well today.” “Good afternoon Sally, I see you’re having a party for Billy’s 5^th birthday today. Would you like to buy some balloons with that?”

Which is great. As long as there’s also a centre where you can visit for a real human interaction.  Come to think of it, isn’t that what we have psychologists for nowadays? I can’t interact on a human level with my friends because I only ever see them through my technology, so I’m stressed and unhappy and need to pay someone to listen to me for an hour to compensate.

There are a lot of good things that come with a growing economy and developing technology, but we seem to be leaving the old world behind. And in the years to come, when I look back and wonder what happened to the human race, I will remember the whiff of spice from the now-extinct corner store, and think of the welcoming smile of the girl behind the counter.