I walked around a store as a specialist early one morning, going through the open back dock doors. It was a couple of hours before the store opened.
This wasn’t uncommon. As I visited store locations as a specialist, I had to get an early start, hit as many stores as I could, checking in with produce managers along the way. My job was multifaceted, sometimes hard to explain.
However, mine was indeed a support role: help the produce managers be successful, be it with merchandising, inventory control, managing their crews, training and more.
I walked through the back room; the load was still there from the overnight delivery. A familiar produce veteran was busy pulling pallets into the cooler, rotating and putting the load away. All well here, I thought.
Then I ran into an odd sight.
I found Milt, the produce manage out on the dimly lit sales floor. While the rack setup man was making good progress for store opening, Milt was sitting on a half-pallet of mixed apple varieties, staring at the empty, freshly matted display table in front of him.
Milt hadn’t noticed me when I interrupted his train of thought. “Good morning,” I said. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, hey, Armand,” Milt replied, smiling behind his thick eyeglasses. “I was, um, just uh — you know, waiting. Waiting for inspiration.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Be right back,” I said.
In many cases when a store was discovered “on fire” — or in terrible stock condition — specialists such as myself weren’t above shedding the sport coat for an apron, rolling up our sleeves to help a crew catch up. In this case, the produce department was in good shape; Milt was just faced with building his lead ad display for the week. He was stuck for ideas, which typically come from experience or from seeing other displays. After a quick detour to the deli, I bought some coffee for the crew.
“Here’s a cup of inspiration for you,” I said. I leaned up against the pallet with Milt as he continued to ponder his course of action. I could relate. I’d been there once or a thousand times myself over the years. After a few sips, I broke the silence. “Tell me what you’ve got so far.”
Milt stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I want a fall look. I have these nice bushel baskets for props. I’m thinking something simple. I’ll line up the shipper cartons to build a spillover in front of the display, then line the bushel baskets on the top layer, dummy those up to limit the amount of product. The two baskets on either side will be bulk red delicious, with the center basket being golds. That’s what I’ve got so far.”
“I like it,” I said. “Basic. Bushels always a nice farm touch. How about the back of the display? Got anything there to add some height to draw the eyes up there?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. The half-bushel stack is right there,” Milt said, pointing to the side of the table. “I can place those behind the table so it looks like the apples are pouring out. Maybe use this checkerboard tablecloth beneath to line the box tops, maybe some totes in front.”
“Nice touches,” I said. A good display draws upon the senses. Height, depth, color, color breaks, freshness, abundance — or at least the illusion of abundance. “Is that it?”
“Getting all the signing wrapped up, and just getting it all done,” Milt said.
I peeled off my sport coat. “I have a little time. Let’s do it.” In about 30 minutes, the display came together as we chatted about the latest company happenings, about what was coming up, about our families, our favorite sports teams.
Sometimes, inspiration just needs a nudge — and some coffee.
Armand Lobato’s more than 50 years of experience in the produce business span a range of foodservice and retail positions. He has written a weekly retail column for two decades.
