You go to the Bon and ask if they have shirts with french cuffs, as you have a pair of cufflinks you'd like to wear. The lady walks you around and shows you a large assortment of shirts, spread all over the store, none of which, you find after some time, are your size. You go across town to the other Bon, you ask for french cuffs, and the boy who works there says they don't carry those. You turn around, walk two paces, pick up the shirt with french cuffs sitting on the shelf nearest you, and tell him that this is what you want and what size you want. Many minutes later, after searching for shirts and sizes by yourself in the pawed-over, disarrayed inventory, you depart without a word, having left several unpinned unfolded unpackaged shirts in the dressing room.
You cross the mall to Nordstrom. A meticulously dressed man approaches immediately and necessitates very few words to understand completely what it is you seek. He nimbly measures your body with a yellow tape. Perhaps they are not always called french cuffs you ask idly, soothed by the efficient man's light, deft touch. I seem to have had some trouble elsewhere making my wishes known. No, that is exactly what they are called, replies the nice man. That is all they are called, nothing else. He slips a crisp packaged garment from an impeccably ordered stack on a glass shelf. I know that you say you wear a fifteen and a half or a sixteen, and my measurements bear that out, but this particular brand runs large. The shirt that I am conveniently unpinning for you will fit you I am certain even though it is labeled a fifteen.
You try on the shirt. It fits perfectly. It actually costs less than those which you pointlessly rearranged for a cumulative hour at the Bons. You are finished with the entire transaction in less than five minutes. The nice man looks you in the eye and shakes your hand as you leave.
You decide to stroll past the shoe department. Fifteen minutes later, the winsome shoe saleswoman is looking you in the eye and shaking your hand as you leave with a boxed pair of shiny black leather dress shoes which fit you perfectly and which cost less than the various pairs you had briefly and dispassionately eyed at the Bon as you were hurriedly making your way to the exit.
Related note: Costco keeps labor costs down by paying their employees more (via kottke).