RogerBW's Blog

The State of eCommerce 28 September 2026

So how's the online shopping experience going, now that AI has made boring old fixing bugs obsolete?

Someone I know on Mastodon mentioned that a particular sort of pen was available cheaply at Rymans (£10 rather than the usual rate of £20+). I thought that sounded worth a try, so set out to buy one. Yup, there they are on the web site, a different SKU for each colour but that's fair enough, and a little "Add" button by each.

Clicky, I go.

"You need to select a store before adding to cart".

Um, no, I'm not going to pick it up, and I don't care which shop (if any) your stock is at; your job is to know that, and ship it to me.

Clicking on the black pen that I want gives me three options: collection, "home delivery", or super special "Ryman Zoom Express Delivery, In as little as 25 minutes, powered by Deliveroo". Well, clearly that's going to be expensive, let's try the normal sort.

"Home delivery is not available."

OK, how much does the "Zoom Express Delivery" cost?

"Sorry, your selected location is outside our current service area. Please try a different address or choose another method."

Maybe I should try to pick it up. But Ryman, being originally an honest retailer, mostly has shops in town rather than out in the middle of nowhere: great if they had one in Wycombe, but they don't, and since they are in the middle of town (nearest are in Banbury and Basingstoke) I'd have to go specifically to that town (e.g. next week when I'll be driving past anyway), negotiate parking, find the shopping centre, and so on. Not worth the effort for a "might be nice" thing.

But.

If I choose the white pen, presto, I can select delivery. So the black pen isn't uniquely hard to deliver, it's just out of stock, which is a thing you could also have noted on the page that listed the various items. Instead, I have to select each colour and see whether it'll allow delivery in order to find out which colours are actually available.

And then, as it turned out on the same day, I tried to buy some socks from Marks & Spencer. Well, I'd used their web site before, so instead I asked my wife to take a look in when she was in Wycombe anyway.

(start Chris)

And I nobly set out to dare the very centre of town, where merely leaving the car cost me two quid for an hour's parking, in a car-park that seems to be downright coy about where the various shops are relative to any of the lifts. Inevitably, I chose the wrong place to park because the lift to that entire quadrant was out of order, so while I could go out down stairs, I needed to find a lift somewhere in order to get back up to the car. Eventually I found M&S more or less where I thought it ought to be by dead reckoning, and went in and up on an escalator to the first floor. No, I was not singing a song by Flanders and Swann; that must have been someone else. (Hail to thee blithe Wompom, hail to thee oh plant...)

I have had worse retail experiences, I suppose, but I can't off-hand think when. For a start, there were no assistants in the shop except at the tills, so nobody from whom I could hope to find out where they had hidden what I was looking for. I did ask one of the five other customers I saw (on a Saturday afternoon!) who was trying to find a pair of shoes that fit him, if he happened to have seen socks at all, but he hadn't. Well, putting them near the shoes would take all the fun out of everyone's Retail Experience, wouldn't it. Putting them near the underpants would also have been too bleedin' obvious. Having any signage at all might have negated the object of the exercise, which was clearly to avoid selling anything to anyone. After I had searched that Menswear floor twice, I finally went to the only till and interrupted one of the two transactions I had seen while I was there, whereupon a Saturday Lad I hadn't noticed bobbed up from behind the counter (I do mean bobbed; I think he'd been hiding under it in case someone organised a lynch mob or something) and told me that socks were by pyjamas. Silly me: of course they were. Shuddering at the recollection of the time I tried to buy a pair of M&S pyjamas this century in Hereford, I duly followed him there, to find that of the sort of sock we wanted in the size that was needed, they had one solitary bunch of three pairs, but in the wrong colour. The socks were all hidden behind something else, but by that time I was losing the will to live and failed to make a note of what was shielding them from obtrusive customers. Both the obtrusive customers.

I came away confirmed in my impression that this is a shop which really prefers not to have physical customers in a physical location, and that on line would be the only way to get what we wanted. Only for me at least, it wasn't. It wanted my postcode, but when I typed that in I was told (repeatedly) that "We can't get your current location. Try checking your browser settings or type in your postcode, town or city." At this point I washed my hands of them and told Roger I wished to have nothing more to do with it. I don't think I told him he would have to go barefoot, but I may have thought it.

(end of Chris, back to Roger)

So back to the web site for me it was. And that mostly worked, thanks to some of Owd Roger's Computer-Wrangling Tricks (send SAE for pamphlet), except that when the receipt arrived (not sent until some ten minutes after the transaction was completed) it said both "we'll email you when it's ready to collect" and "We'll email you when your order has been despatched". This is the point at which I would be asking a human "are you feeling OK?".

See also:
The Suicide of Retail (and Journalism)

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