You can’t beat service with a smile

Three little words: You were right. A mother can’t help but strut a little in their echo.

I had told her. For weeks and weeks, I’d been saying the same things. “They’re amazing. It’s the best place.’’ But you know how kids are - even when they’re grown-up adult kids.

They still roll their eyes and ignore you.

My daughter maintains that I ignored her, too, that she begged me for more than a year to scrap my you-can-hear-it-grinding-in-the-next-room definitely struggling PC and get a shiny brand new Apple computer.

But my PC was still working, never mind that it froze as often as old pipes in January, that it took 22 minutes to reboot, that the CD door had to be pried open with a paper clip, and that half the time the CD drive didn’t work anyway.

The fact is, I’d still be putting up with it if weren’t for some about-to-expire frequent flier miles. This is how I bought my Apple. With points. And it came in the mail.

The first time I brought it into the Apple store at South Shore Plaza, I was certain they’d say, “Hey, lady. You didn’t buy this here. Sorry, we can’t help you.’’ But instead, it was like wandering into a Unitarian church and having a group of smiling strangers welcome you and then invite you to stay for coffee hour.

“Let me take this for you,’’ a young man said. “And next time, just call us from the parking lot and we’ll carry it in.’’

They set up my Mac. They transferred all the files from my PC. They programmed and configured. And they explained.

But they had me at, “Next time, we’ll carry it in.’’

I signed up for “One to One,’’ a year’s worth of private lessons for $99. And after my first lesson, I was like St. Paul speaking to the Ephesians, the Corinthians, and anyone else who happened to say hello.

An old friend, Fred Shea, called right after my conversion and suggested that I write a column about the lack of good service in retail these days. But before he could tell me about his bad experiences, I was regaling him about my excellent experiences at the Apple store.

“You sound just like Mona,’’ he said of a friend. “All she talks about is her Apple and the people at that store.’’

Back in the day, there were so many stores you could walk into and get good service that we took it for granted. Remick’s in Quincy. Conrad and Chandler in Boston. Filenes. Jordan Marsh. The Acorn Shop in Canton center. Even Randolph’s Five and Ten.

I remember picking out my first lipstick at the Five and Ten. A young woman with black hair pinned in a bun wearing pale pink ultra frosted lipstick came over to help me. Salespeople did that then. Even for a tube of lipstick. They didn’t just ring up a purchase. They suggested. They assisted. They were attentive and friendly and professional.

Not so much anymore. In most department stores today there are no salespeople, just clerks ringing up purchases with annoying indifference. In the few places where there are salespeople, they’re all too often standing around talking to each other.

Shopping these days almost always puts me in mind of the song from “Chicago’’ where the guy sings about being invisible.

Mister cellophane Should have been my name!!!! Mister cellophane ’cause you can look right through me Walk right by me And never know I’m there! Except when I’m at the Mac store, where they always know I’m there.

Canton resident Beverly Beckham can be reached at bevbeckham@aol.com.