An open letter to my local big-box

It's not really a secret whose name appears on my local big-box store. It's familiar to all of rural America except those clever enough to forbid entry to it in order to keep their downtowns in business. Our downtown has been doing a slow-fast-slow downturn ever since the big-box arrived in the mid-70s.

But today, after three decades of being alternately surprised and disappointed in the store, I was sufficiently upset to call the 1-800 customer service number for the first time. Three minutes on hold (I was giving them 5) and I was in touch with a pleasant sounding woman who had heard it all before. "Thank you for calling and I'll refer your comments to the proper people." Or words to that effect.

And my complaint? I went looking for a larger embroidery hoop, (and embroidery was going to be the subject of my today's blog but it will wait until my snit disappears), and not immediately finding it, decided I'd find the embroidery floss instead. (I knew the customer service rep had heard my complaint before because I said 'thread' and she replied with the proper term 'floss.') There wasn't any. None. No three or four hundred colors for me to scan and salivate over, touch and compare. Last summer I'd had a high old time picking out colors for the grandbaby's quilt. This summer looked to be another matter.

So I slunk over to the sales person and leaned in. Had I, by any chance, missed the embroidery thread? No, she informed me, it had been gone for several months and had taken the hoops with it. Many customers had been disappointed. I could call the 800 number and she gave it to me.

Feeling she was definitely on my side, I wasted no time in complaining. Alas, I found out more than I wanted to. Hold onto your shears, fellow fabric craftsmen, the world is changing.

The fabric department as we know it is being phased out. In its place will be a "life celebrations" department. (oh, please) Their research had shown that most people now shopped for wedding, birthday and their ilk celebration items instead of fabric. There would still be fabric, she assured me, it would just be pre-cut and not on the bolt.

I was stunned. This was going to be everywhere, all stores. So, I asked, never mind that the company had made their money on rural America, rural America would be driving 30 miles (in my case) to get fabric? I should have asked about thread and seam binding, but my mouth was already on the floor.

I am so disappointed and I told her so. Not that my opinion counts, but if there are enough of us, maybe eventually they'll see the error of their ways. Or not. But we'll feel better. And then I won't be putting quilting pins in the little box I'd like to make.

If I could find the fabric.