Where’s my size? When I find something I like, it’s never in the color I want or worst case… not available in my size! (I have a slender physique.)
Personal space is always violated. I am on my own, taking my time, looking at something on a shelf or a rack and someone comes right next to me, into my personal space. Like I can feel their purse rubbing up against mine. They just stand there, pretending to be interested in the same thing. First of all, take a couple of steps away from me. Second, you know darn well you aren’t going to buy what I am looking at here. How many times has this happened to you?
Those sales people who come rushing up to the customer like how a dog does to its owner when they come home at the end of the day. Except in this case, it’s a stranger who isn’t looking for a belly rub.
Don’t make eye contact. Look away and just keep walking.
“Hi there!” Ah, dammit, they speech trapped me. You know, the whole speech about the current sales going on, buy one get one half off or spend $80 and get this free gift. I think I would rather give my dog a belly rub and in return she does tricks for me.
The credit card offer. I see the signs, save an additional 15% when you open up a credit card with us. Ok, that’s all I get for signing up? This is my credit we are talking about here. Give me something that will show me my business is appreciated.
The awkward personal questions. When the associate at the lingerie store asks me what my bra size is. Umm, that’s a little personal, why should I tell a complete stranger this? When I bit my lip and responded with my size, she said, “Oh, so you should probably grab a small in that bra.” Really? Who the hell in the sizing department assigned such ridiculous numbers, letters and general sizes to us, especially women.
“No, I got a medium because a small will not fit me comfortably,” I said. I got that look as if I didn’t know what I was doing.
Maybe this is why people shop online more often.