A Trip to the Hardware Store
I occasionally go to a hardware store where several of the staff members look and sound like alumni of a tough biker gang. [It takes little imagination to picture them chain-whipping shoplifters.] They are always friendly, however, and - here's the important part - helpful. They know their stuff. They can solve my problems without making me feel like an idiot.
These specialists stand in contrast to the better-dressed and untattooed staff at another branch of the same chain. Those sharpies look like they're eager to update their resumes. They possess only a vague knowledge of what's being sold in the store. It's not that they are snooty. They are amiable enough, but seem confused as to the difference between ratchets and beach balls. I have no confidence in their advice.
There is another factor. With the bikers, I sense a serious commitment to the products and the customers. Their competitors at the other store are just putting in time until another job opens up.
That may be true of anyone, but you sure don't want to telegraph it.