I am not a fan of Malls at the best of times, the lack of parking at Christmas time, people everywhere chattering like geese, texters not watching where they are walking, queues as long as the Rainbows End log flume waiting to order big sweet trashy coffee... I would choose to shop mainstreet any day. But even so, on the odd occasion I find myself at a mall surely I shouldn’t be pestered by mildly attractive sales assistants wanting to buff up my nails. Surely in the name of almighty Westfield and by the power of Greyskull I should be allowed to try and enjoy the ‘mall’ experience without these perfectly manicured vultures getting all up in my face?
And don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about, they stand there with bubblier personalities than Cindy Lauper holding a tray of pottles each with a little squirt of white nail softener, or whatever that miracle crap is...
“Excuse me sir” (the interrupt)
“No” (avoidance)
“Would you like to have incredible nails?” (the stupid question...)
“No” (further avoidance with a hint of irritation)
“It will only take a minute and you won’t know yourself” (the blind stupid persistence)
... ignore
“Sir?” (the final straw)
Now this is where one requires control over their actions. I am already in a frustrated mall funk and this has just made me want to roundhouse kick (Chuck Norris style) the pusher of this Nail Crack! ... Diffuse, Diffuse, Diffuse...
“Look lady, I’m a bloke. If I have nice soft, pretty nails my friends make fun of me. My friends make fun of me and I start to feel down, depressed even. After taxing the health system for some mental health care and probably some subsidised Prozac I might come right... but maybe I won’t, maybe, just maybe I will get all twitchy and aggressive, maybe I will drive too fast and accidentally crash into a bus of children only to survive and spend the rest of my life in prison thinking about innocent dead children! CHILDREN!!! Is that what you want? Now Please!... leave me alone!”
“But your Nails will be soft?” Arrrrrggh! (complete and utter confusion...)
I Walk away.
People change. Some change over a long period of time, others when they don a uniform. A normal person can even become a superhero with the right leotard! What is it about a person that changes when they slide into ‘sales’ mode?
They become pushy instead of persuasive, interruptive instead of interesting and overall the kind of person that no one likes... They become all amways. I’m sure these are lovely people and without holding their tray of goop, these mildly attractive sales people may even become fully attractive who knows. But if you are going to persist with the pushing, keep invading my mall privacy then I am not going to like you. No means no!
So, nail girl/boy... Please don’t approach me about my nails again. Yep, me... you know... the guy!
