As promised in last week’s RPW, I spent this past Sunday touring a few favorite retailers in my hometown of Boston, Massachusetts, in order to get a man-on-the-street perspective of how retailers — and their sales cycles — have been impacted by one of the snowiest winters in New England history.

What Did I Find?

In fairness, I should preface this piece by noting the weather on Sunday was as good as one could hope for here in February. Freezing cold — but beautifully sunny. I knew I wasn’t going to be the only one with the idea to log off eBay and get out of the house.

My first stop was Filene’s basement, a popular off-price clothing retailer whose flagship store has been temporarily relocated from its iconic Downtown Crossing location to a more modern facility on Boylston Street in the city’s Back Bay area. I shop at this store frequently, and I asked one of the store associates I recognized from past visits how the winter had been; I promptly received a good-natured earful. To paraphrase, crazy weather has led to dead quiet days, followed, almost inexplicably, by days when the store is absolutely teeming with customers. In his opinion, busy days weren’t always on break-in-the-weather days like today, but a variation of what my partner Paula might call, fatigue. This is a different type of fatigue, however. Whereas Paula cites “frugality fatigue “ as customers’ eagerness to blindly consume after counting pennies in a tough economy for so long, this would be winter in Boston fatigue — after four straight days of snow in row, you might just be anstsy enough to go out shopping on the fifth day no matter what the weather is like.

Incidentally, on this bluebird day, the customers around me seemed to be a little less patient than usual, as well. This was not his insight — it was mine. While my judgment may have been impaired by a particularly annoying argument a couple shopping nearby was having, I couldn’t help but think that, even for a city often noted for its citizens’ less-than-friendly nature, there was a more rudeness in the air among fellow Bostonians than I’d seen in quite some time. Not many doors being held open, and a lot of bumping in the aisles without apology. We’ll call that politeness fatigue.

Across the street from Filene’s, a Border’s store was having its last day of business. It was impossible to miss, there were people holding placards announcing its closing (20-40% off everything in stock) on every neighboring corner. I’ve spent a lot of time in this store, and as morbid as it seemed, I had to have one last look. What I saw took my breath away: the line for the register was at least an hour long, maybe an hour and a half. I didn’t see a single shopper in the line with less than 2 books in hand, many had armfuls. I went to find a travel book for a trip I’d be taking later in the week, and in a turn of luck, they didn’t have it in stock. No way was I waiting in that line even if they did.

Next, I visited a trendy designer jeans shop on one of the city’s tonier streets — Newbury, not because I shop there (I don’t), but because it was near to where my car was parked. I asked one of the young ladies eager to help how the winter had been, and her reply was most interesting. “A lot of our business here comes from international tourists, so they’re already here — sometimes for even longer if their flights home are delayed. So all in all, they tend to still come out spending even if the weather’s bad. “ But then she added, “Except for the days it was really coming down. “ I thanked her for her help and then showed myself the door before I had any temptation to become stylish.

Lastly, on my way home, I stopped in at the Cambridside Galleria, a nearby mall, to check their Borders for the book I needed. While the mall was absolutely jammed with people, this store was devoid of drama. No lines, no crowds, and I found the book I needed without fuss. The only indicator anything was out of the ordinary was a small sign at the POS informing customers that while a reduction in stores was going on in the chain, this location would not be affected. Without 20-40% off, I was one of only six customers in the store.

Anecdotally, the conclusion I’d draw is that while the overall loss of primary sales to local customers may not have been permanently impacted by inclement weather, it has certainly created for a more lumpy sales cycle for the Northeast-based retailer. Ancillary or impulse buys that might have come along with those postponed store visits are gone for good, as are missed sales from the region’s nonstop flow of domestic tourists and foreign visitors looking to take advantage of the weak dollar. However, the overall strain of this feast-or-famine shopping environment is readily apparent in both on-site staffing (does your enterprise have the sophistication to allocate workforce based on weather forecasts?), but even more immediately, on the supply chain. Product assortments — particularly for an off-price retailer — simply can’t cope with the unpredictability of a winter where 75-100 ladies’ winter coats may sit on markdown racks for weeks on end, only to sell out in one sunny afternoon.

All in all, the toll of inclement weather remains incalculable, but winter in Boston fatigue is measuring off the charts.