Somebody Please Bring Me A St. Pauli Girl.

Well, this is a first. If a grocery-store clerk doesn’t drink alcohol, don’t expect him to be familiar with beer brands or to even know where the beer aisle is.

Last week HQ Cat watched as a customer at the checkout waited for a clerk to bring out a 12-pack of St. Pauli Girl. As instructed by the cashier, the clerk was to first check the beer aisle just in case the potentially stupid beer customer overlooked seeing it (you never know when a beer drinker might mistake a Bud Light for a St. Pauli Girl).

Anyway, if the shelf was officially proven to be bare, the clerk was to traipse back to the stockroom and find the St. Pauli Girl.

HQ Cat supposes the clerk decided to first search behind the piled bags of Tidy Cat, because a long time went by.

Meanwhile, the customer, clearly irate, asked the cashier why it was taking so long.

“Well, sir, you have to understand,” the cashier replied, rolling her eyes and making sure the next customer in line wasn't stuffing her melting frozen burrito behind the Burt’s Bees Lip Balm.

“Our clerk doesn’t drink, so he doesn’t know where the beer is.”

Oh, so that’s the hold-up.

Thank the dear Lord the clerk wasn’t a lactose-intolerant snack-food junkie menopausal vegetarian, because he would have never found Tom and Jerry, Little Debbie, Tampax Pearl or the Johnsonville Brats.

Somebody please bring HQ a St. Pauli.

A Crazy Brand Dream Starring NatGeo, O, G, Tag, Ore-Ida, DQ, SEO and the Y.

Last night I had this crazy dream that I lived in the Land of Abbreviations, Acronyms and Portmanteaus (LAAP). I poured myself a glass of G, turned on some Lady A and read an issue of O. I worked out at the Y and washed my BMW. I ate at KFC, watched NatGeo and then switched to Syfy. I ironed my DKNY blouses and rode my Hog (making sure I wore my Tag so I wouldn’t forget the time).

I learned that GEICO wasn’t the name of a gecko but instead stood for Government Employment Insurance Company. (As my gecko-eating alter ego will tell you, this really blew my other mind and I will never ever look at GEICO the same way again.)

I raced by the Shack, the Hut and the Ritz. I left the Citi, dropped in at NPR and whizzed past the NRA.

I confused REO with SEO, which made me wonder why there isn't an SEO Speedwagon.

I even invented my own abbrev: “Ida” for Ore-Ida (Ore-Ida, I know your name is a portmanteau of Oregon and Idaho, but I’d much rather have a friendly conversation with Ida because she’s “All Righta”… maybe you should do a national search for the perfect Ida?).

And then I woke up. Someone in the house said DQ.

Kanes Furniture Store Shakes A Leg When National Competitor Opens Next Door.

Imagine looking out the window of your longtime, family-owned furniture business and seeing the glow of torchieres emanating through the glass of your new neighbor’s massive storefront. That’s what happened when Rooms To Go -- self-proclaimed as America’s No. 1 independent furniture company -- opened this weekend right next door to Kanes of Sarasota, the city’s “oldest fine furniture store” founded in 1950.

Kanes knows a thing or two about Florida-style furniture fashion, finishes and fabric. According to its website, it’s furnished more homes in the area than any other store, plus it continually updates its selections.

On Rooms To Go’s opening day, Kanes predictably ran a newspaper ad in the same section where the giant retailer’s ad appeared.

Only it wasn’t your ordinary sales ad. Instead, Kanes’ headline in big letters read, "WE WELCOME 'ROOMS TO GO' TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD." The ad went on to say, “We always welcome responsible competition to the marketplace. It’s the backbone of good American business.” Readers were then invited to shop Kanes' entire stock of furniture, all specially priced to “celebrate the arrival” of its new neighbor.

HQ applauds Kanes’ smart strategy. The small retailer could have tried to pull the rug out from under Rooms To Go’s feet with a more aggressive message, but instead, it welcomed the furniture giant and reminded readers of Kanes’ newly designed model rooms and vignettes.

Nice job, Kanes. But one thought to put on the table should you decide to run the ad again: Don’t make the “Rooms To Go” name so honkin’ big in your headline. It overshadows your logo big time and makes your ad look like a Rooms To Go ad (which Rooms To Go probably doesn't really mind too much).

Yours very truly,

HQ

Mothers® Car Wax and Mother’s Day.

Just so you know, I posted today's blog entry without researching the Mothers® Car Wax brand.

All I know is that Mothers® has been around forever and that in my opinion, it’s the best car wax on the market.

Ironically, and most unexpectedly, a couple without children decided the family car needed to be waxed today -- on Mother’s Day.

Well, truth be told, it was the husband's idea. His wife thought the car looked just fine.

So I watched and listened. The woman thought the wax smelled good. Her husband didn’t say a word. He just kept polishing.

And when his wife remarked how beautiful the shine was, he said something about carnauba and that it comes from a palm somewhere in Brazil.

Harlequin Cat just thought it was cool that on Mother’s Day a car-wax brand called Mothers® could literally outshine the jewelers and florists of the world.

I wonder if Mothers® ever thought about this. Like I said, I didn’t research the brand.

Searching For The (Retail) Light.

This weekend I watched a woman visit seven stores looking for office chairs: Pier 1 Imports, Broyhill, Copenhagen Imports, HomeGoods, Kanes, Bacon’s Furniture and Havertys. Being an omniscient feline, I knew she was hoping to buy a lighting fixture as well.

The woman was casually dressed. Summer shorts. Sleeveless blouse. Ponytail. She certainly didn’t have to worry about being accosted by salespeople, especially the well-dressed ones at Bacon’s (although she was only one of three customers in the entire store). Her Pier 1 Imports’ experience was by far the most enjoyable. The sales associate went out of his way to help her, although she still didn’t see exactly what she was searching for.

Thirty minutes later, she found a black chair she liked (at Broyhill), but she needed two and they only had one in stock. The salesman said she could take one home that day, and the other would be delivered in six weeks.

When she said she wasn’t willing to wait that long, he tried to sell her brown chairs, which, of course, were in stock (the dark expresso brown was “identical” to black, he said.)

The woman left. But on the way home, she stopped at a lighting store and purchased a ceiling light that wasn’t even on her list to buy – a George Kovacs chrome-and-glass number that she knew would transform her kitchen. No heavy sales pitch. A good price point. And simple, direct answers to her questions, ponytail and all.

Now if only she can find her non-expresso black chairs.

Pardon The Cat Nap.

Actually, I haven't been napping. It's just that I've been been so darn busy that I haven't had time to reflect on a thing, much less write about it.

I'll fill my pen with ink soon.

HQ

Take The Steering Oar With Your Tweets.

“The captain, who had been on the coast before and knew the ropes, took the steering oar."

-- from Richard H. Dana’s 1840 memoir, Two Years Before The Mast

HQ wishes more people on Twitter would take the steering oar and tweet their own unique messages instead of sharing information we can get from any news source.

The desired halo effect is becoming increasingly transparent.

I already know about Japan's devastating earthquake. I know daylight saving time started yesterday. I know about the foreclosure crisis. Am I the only one who’s tired of regurgitated news?

As Seth Godin writes this morning, he loves hearing about the next big thing, but he’s more interested in what "you're doing with the old big thing.”

What would happen if we were forced to retreat on retweets for just a day? I bet we would survive.