Supply Chain Superhighway To Oblivion

Names can be misleading.  The crazy good Swedish band, Dirty Loops, for example, might conjure up images of guys clothed only in short black socks performing the unspeakable with women in ill-fitting underwear, but the Swedes are rockin' and rollin' to an entirely different tune.  And so it is with the newest entry in our neighborhood joining the retail food wars.

The establishment must remain nameless for obvious reasons, unless it does another face-plant in our presence, at which point the gloves come off.  Suffice it to say that the first of its two-word name connotes just-picked, just-gathered, just-harvested, just-prepared, just-processed - something like that.  The second word rhymes with slime.

Herewith a montage of our experiences.  After consuming a small portion of their featured apple pie, something explained only by the possibility that Johnny Appleseed had got into a mess of magic mushrooms, a brief mention to the Bakery Manager elicited this: "I know.  I can't eat the things, myself.  Sorry there's nothing we can do for you."  Next, the appearance of a large basket of bread loaves, unwrapped, uncovered, without a bag in which to insert one (if selected), and sans any utensil with which to pick one up.  This cheerful flouting of any rule of good sense, or health and safety, was placed at approximately the nose level of small children subject to sneezes and other outbursts of bodily fluids.  Compounding the insult, the bakery department refused to slice a loaf for anyone purchasing one, because "then we have to clean the machine."  Welcome to Disease Exchange Central.

The seafood counter was amply protected from external contamination, but an attempt to purchase was an exercise in self-restraint.  With a promise of, "Hang on, we'll get you some of the fresh stuff," we did two things: 1) wonder how not fresh the dead fish on display was, and 2) wait while customer after customer approached, ordered, and walked away with a bag of the same seafood we had ordered.  As we contemplated walking away, and out the door, the acne-scarred master-gutter (we assume that he was good at something) popped up with our bag of iced fish.  Meanwhile, another customer attempted to buy another fish, which was tagged as $10.95/lb.  The scale rang up a ticket at $11.95/lb.  The customer complained; the clerk explained that there was nothing he could do; it was $11.95 or nothing.  The customer, correctly, decided it was nothing, and left.

But, the adventure was not over.  The store features narrow aisles, giving the place the feel and look of a small independent market.  Customer movement with carts and small children is a thrill ride in itself, but is brought to a standstill by knots of employees chatting obliviously about our town's latest club sensation, the mega-metal sensation, Naked Kangaroo Rats, and other vital life matters, such as how much prison had changed her boyfriend and baby daddy.  Following our lead blocker (this is, of course, Ohio State country), we found some mighty attractive fresh tamales just before reaching the checkout lanes and freedom.  The hair we found in the tamales when we opened them for lunch was the end of the game for us.

Let's recap.  Can't fulfill orders when both customer and product are less than three feet away.  Have no clue about customer service and customer satisfaction.  Can't bend systems to avoid the appearance of fraud.  Willing to risk customers' health and welfare for the sake of appearance.  Overstaffed and undermanaged.  Untrained or ill-trained associates.  Unacceptable supplier performance in dimensions of quality and safety, without any apparent knowledge of or mitigating processes for.

Here's the point.  For this not-so-very-fine-company, the possible superiority and excellence of its logistics processes are irrelevant.  That DC operations might be superior means nothing.  That transportation cost and performance could be industry-leading is a red herring, a false accomplishment.

Until and unless all of the components of supply chain management are aligned and all are excellent, having really good logistics is like being the best violinist in the Titanic's orchestra.  And, this gang would be much better off getting the rest of the house in order before worrying about the invisible logistics part.

If they don't, they'll join an army of wanna-bes, coulda-beens, and used-to-wases in grocery  Purgatory.  They'll rationalize, and blame a marketplace that "wasn't ready".  And, the marketplace won't care.

So, where are you?  Any danger of achieving logistics excellence at some cost or risk to customer delight with the overall supply chain?