Our stops at PJ’s Pet Store and Fossil leave us crestfallen. But our hopes are lifted by the sight of the late Canadian war hero who doubles in the afterlife as a chocolatier, namely Laura Secord. Amid the sparring scents of vanilla candles and hazelnut chocolate, we advance on a black-smocked girl obscured by a counter full of almond bark to ask about a retirement gift for a co-worker. “I wouldn’t really know,” she says, and makes no move to change that. We stare at her. “It’s too difficult to pick a gift for someone without knowing his interests.”
We keep staring.
Ultimately, the Laura Secord lady says maybe we should think about a picture frame. OK, we ask, where are they? She points, vaguely, at a far corner of the store. We squint in that direction, then swing back to fix her with the same confused looks. At last, our sales “help” reluctantly slides out from behind her barricade and deposits us in front of a picture-frame display. And that’s that.
“No good,” says Brygidyr. “She made it clear from the start that she didn’t really want to help. She didn’t inspire us, she didn’t make suggestions. And even when we’d sort of decided on the frame, she made no suggestion of cross-selling with a retirement greeting card.”