Call me old fashioned but I'd like a little service to go with that sale and a little smile to go with that service. Sales is a service business. I don't care what the product is, you're still selling service. In most cases, customers can buy the stuff you sell from many vendors. Consider this.

This past summer my family vacationed at a sunny Florida resort. It has all the tourist trappings one expects in a town built for visitors: a plethora of local seafood restaurants, a tee-shirt shop on every corner, and the ubiquitous manufacturer's outlet mall that features the best of last year's fashions. Naturally, we shop until we drop, looking for that one bargain that justifies the entire shopping experience. My wife found her treasure long before I found mine.

We visited one of those factory-owned sunglass stores, even though I had no pressing need for a new pair of sunglasses. My old pair worked just fine, but I was open to a new design since my family teased me about my "Harry Caray" shades.

Admittedly, I wandered around the shop like a tire kicker. I certainly wasn't dressed like someone who might spend a small house payment on a pair of upscale shades. And this was an upscale shop. It was so fancy and the sunglasses were so expensive that everything was locked in glass cases. I love it when sellers believe their customers are thieves.

The twenty-something year-old who worked there was busily attending to another customer so I meandered from case to case, hoping to find one unlocked cabinet and try on a pair of sunglasses that didn't cover half of my face. I inched toward the cabinet that the clerk opened for another customer, a well-dressed gentleman. You could tell from his appearance that this man was a high-class shopper. He was dressed nothing like me.

And there it was! The pair of sunglasses that I had been searching for. I reached for them, tried them on and marveled at how fashionable I looked in the mirror. I was stylin'. I noticed a few other pairs, but this was the pair I wanted.

As I replaced the sunglasses, the clerk immediately slammed shut the glass case and locked it. I looked at him and said, "I guess I'm finished looking." He said nothing as he walked away, in hot pursuit of the well-dressed gentleman who, incidentally, left the store without purchasing anything. But that's okay. I stayed a few minutes longer and left with the knowledge that I was prepared to spend $150 for a pair of sunglasses that I really didn't need, but liked.

You see, I can buy those sunglasses anywhere. They are a national brand. But why would I buy something from someone who doesn't smile when they sell? Besides, the clerk really wasn't a salesperson — he was a case opener.