Scaring the Pesky Salespeople
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Today my husband and I went to a new Sports Authority that opened in our rather underpopulated county. We were surprised it was even built since we already have another sports store. A tall young brunette swooped on us before we got 3 feet in the door and introduced herself by name, telling us not to hesitate even ONE SECOND before coming to her for advice or questions. "She's on commission," I muttered to my husband. He nodded.
We walked around the corner, looking at the clothes. We weren't shopping for anything in particular, having just bought shoes for me and a singlet and weight belt for my husband, who is entering a competition next month. A young man pounced on us, asking us if we needed help finding anything. He followed us about 30 feet before he was convinced by my repeated "back off" looks to actually back off.
By the time we'd rounded another corner, we'd been accosted by two more young men. I looked at my husband and muttered, "If one more comes my way, can I give him the full treatment?" He laughed. We agreed that he would take the female salespeople and I would take the men. Since we know the security guard, we figured the police would not be called.
In our giggly revenge we noted that none of the salespeople were over the age of 20. They would no doubt die of absolute shame to have gray haired people like us stripping off our outerwear in the aisle while asking to be helped with various supportive devices. I was going to tell my young male that my boobs bounced too dang much anymore when I went running and could he please look at the tag on the sports bra I was wearing right now because silly old me, I forgot my size! Then I'd turn around and lift up my shirt enough for him to see the tag in back, but not enough to actually expose myself. If he hesitated, I'd remind that he was following me around the store offering to help me.
Would I actually do such a thing? I've done such things before. But today, by the time we were done debating whether my husband should ask about male supportive devices - or since he's a fairly public figure, had better play it safe and ask for stock market advice instead - we had reached the front of the store. We tipped our hats to the security guard, made a lame joke about whether or not he was allowed to let us leave without buying anything, and left.