Sample, Lady?
I’m not the most frequent mall shopper myself. I enjoy window shopping in the mall every now and again. But I’m a simple person. Most necessary things in life for me, I’m finding, I’d just assume get at Costco, Target or the grocery store. Of course I will stray off the beaten path every now and then for something that’s not covered by the holy trinity above, but it’s not all that often.
Today I found myself on a girl bonding day. My husband is a computer geek by trade, and he LOVES going to computer expos to see what kind of deals he can wrangle up. In his sheer genius, he can rebuild something that is not working in the electronic world and loves to tinker to figure such things out. I’ve been to many a computer show with him to keep him company. Of late, my dear man has been schooling the boys on the innards of the trusty computer, and they’ve actually been excited about attending the computer show with dad to see what they can score themselves. Ahh. That sounded pretty good to me. Male bonding with the boys and company for dad sounds like an event pass for mom. So, I wrangled up an old friend and we rendezvoused at the mall for some chatting, shopping, and eating. Sounds like a win win for everyone, right?
Well, it was for the most part, but have you been to the mall lately? Those sample people make me insane. I know that they are just trying to do their job and earn a living like the next guy, but I find myself physically walking to the furthest part of the walkway and try to avoid eye contact at all costs and still they manage to slither their way into my field of vision and start spinning their pitch like nobody’s business. I think we passed no less than four kiosk’s with what appeared to be the same skin rejuvenating what-cha-ma potion that they were offering samples of. I guess out of common courtesy it’s hard for me not to at least maintain some semblance of civility if they’ve managed to get my eye contact and get in my path, but it makes me feel like a used car sales man is trying to get me to buy a powder blue pacer. Almost makes me want to take a shower on the spot.
As my friend and I were walking by what seemed to be the third incarnation of the sample cart, I had said no thanks as we were walking by, and he was pointing to my shoes, and I’m like wha? Of course I’m nearly deaf as a doornail, especially in a crowded place like the mall, so I leaned in closer wondering what the hell he was saying, when Swomp!, he got me…do you let your nails grow naturally? Huh? What? Er, yeah. He swooped in and took my hand and proceeded to ramble on about some pure silk, only once a week, yada yada something or other. I’m looking at him like, you really can’t be serious here, buddy. He’s physically holding my hand rubbing my nail with some contraption, and I’m letting him go on for a moment, and I finally said, “This just isn’t doing it for me”. Sorry. I had to forcibly snap my hand away from him and scurry away to get him to leave me alone. Good god. How many people does he do this to in one day, and how many people actually buy something from him? I can’t imagine.
The kiosk’s aren’t the only places you get accosted either. You certainly must be familiar with the perfume counter. They are my particularly scathing nemesis. I am a plain person by nature. Plain colors. (I think the only clothes that I own that have prints or are brightly colored were more than likely a gift from someone else). Classic clothes, at least I perceive them as being classic. After having my kids (I think I was pregnant or in various stages of pregnancy for some 5 odd years) my sister hauled me out on a shopping spree to which I relented because she proclaimed that I was stuck in a time warp in the 80’s.
I also can’t stand stink. And I guess I categorize most perfumes as stink. I can remember being pregnant and being so sensitive, that I nearly puked if someone was wearing too much cologne or perfume. I can tolerate pretty mild, clean kinds of smells. But, throw the likes of a gardenia or some other flowery potent aroma in there, and I’m likely to wrinkle my nose hope I don’t get a headache from the odor profusion. So, every time I happen into one of the stores with the fragrance counter near the entrance, I must plan a tactical maneuver so that I can avoid being sprayed by the over zealous scent wielding peddler of fine fragrances. Yikes!
Sometimes though, I can be in the right frame of mind for such sales pitches. For example, you’ve got to admit the As Seen on TV store is fascinating. You just have to ramble into the store to see what they have to offer. And even I, shall I say, who is generally frugal have been lured into the showmanship and sheer fun of the sale. Who can resist the Sham- Wow! for instance? Have you seen what that baby can suck up? And I was right there to witness it in person, so it was no gimmick! So, they had me. I must have sucker written on at least part of my body–so maybe that’s why I got my single nail buffed before I yanked it away, as he must have felt he could fill some lack in the quality of my nail that I must have looked like I was dying to fill…
So, overall, I’d call it a win win. The boys got some needed male bonding with dad. I got some very quality time with a dear friend. And all I had to do to get it was to let my middle finger buffed by some man who wouldn’t let go of my hand. Not a bad sacrifice at all…
Where is the facebook like button ?
Thanks for the comment. I’m still quite new to blogging. We’ll see if it works!