For goodness sake: I just want some coffee!

Firstly, I should say that I love Nespresso. The convenience and ease of making a decent brew that this system affords, means never having to drink instant coffee ever again – and that has to be a good thing.

However, in my opinion, their marketing and sales strategy leaves a lot to be desired. They make it so hard to purchase their product.

Firstly, it’s only available at their boutiques (which is what they call their shops) or online and, in Australia, their boutiques are only found in capital cities and are a bit thin on the ground with only six boutiques servicing the whole of Sydney.

I live a 10-minute walk from my nearest boutique and still I don’t find it convenient as I have to make a special trip just to get coffee. If I had to make such an effort for every single household item, it would take up 120% of my week.

Their boutiques are opulently decked out and they are more than adequately staffed: indeed they seem to have one staff member whose job it is to accost (welcome?) customers as they come through the door with the question:

“What are you looking for today?”

When all they sell is coffee – what do they expect you to say? I usually just answer deadpan:

“Coffee.”

However, one time I couldn’t resist it and answered:
“I’m looking for red shoes.”

The sales assistant looked confused – well it wasn’t me who was asking what someone is looking for in a shop that exclusively sells coffee and coffee paraphernalia, was it?

Then there is the buying ritual to be followed: you choose your coffee, put it in a bag in a hole next to a machine that then scans your membership card.  Yes, that’s right, you need a membership card to buy coffee!

Last week, laden with groceries from the supermarket, I said to one of the assistants,
“Look, my card is somewhere in the bottom of my bag and I don’t want to have to empty it to get it out. Can I just buy the coffee?”
“I can go find your membership number,” the salesperson suggested helpfully.
“No. Can’t I just buy the coffee,” I countered.

It seemed like an easy enough question but it necessitated calling over a colleague (a manager ?) who irritably snatched the bag of coffee from the hole… and I snatched it back. I wanted that coffee and he wasn’t having it.

But no, he had no intention of depriving me, he was going to facilitate my request. Ten minutes later, after entering all sorts of codes into their computer system, I walked from the shop with my purchases.

I won’t even begin to bore you with how difficult it was to spend a Nespresso gift card there. I did suggest at the time that perhaps they consider scrapping the gift cards as they didn’t seem to be working for them.

Their sales strategy encourages you buy in bulk: relative difficulty of access and overly helpful staff (annoying the bejesus out of you?) so you don’t want to make too frequent visits (even if you live a ten-minute walk away).

However, I don’t have the space at home for storing bulk purchases and I don’t want my apartment to look like I’m hoarding supplies for the coming of Armageddon. 

So come on, Nespresso, I know you are trying to make me feel special with your membership status and your helpful staff and all-encompassing ‘coffee’ experience whilst I am inside your shop (complete with coffee tastings) – but with me, you’ve missed the mark –