At Levitz yesterday, while the trainee was ringing up my new couch and coffee table and paintings, a supervisor password confirmation dialog appeared on her screen. Her supervisor leaned over, typed in the password, and then explained to her, "Always make sure to pick a really easy password. You have to enter a lot, so make it something like mine. Did you see it? It's just five L's."
Normally I'd balk at such an insecure password (and announcing it to your coworkers and customers), but after seeing their system, I don't think anyone else knowing the right password would do them any good. They had Windows 95 terminals backed by some Oracle database, which I only know because "Oracle" showed up on every screen. To get from each screen to the next you had to either tab to the right barely-labeled field on the screen and type in an alphanumeric code, or press one of the F-keys to get to the previous or next screen in a series. (For example, the code to print a copy of a receipt was, I believe, SORW.) It was horriffic. Things like that are why normal people are scared of computers.
The supervisor was the same person who sold me my dining room and bedroom furniture three years ago. She remembered me. That's service.