Here, Pumpkin, Let Me Help You

I love to shop.  I love to shop when I don’t have to shop.  If I need something special to wear to go out to dinner, then I don’t like to shop.  More to the point, I think I like to wander and look at things – it’s a touchy, feely kind of enterprise with me.  Something has to be tried on?  I’m not having fun anymore.  Shopping is my kind of exercise if I can do it in an ADD kind of way. 

My current favorite store is Williams Sonoma – a high end kitchen place.  The other day I needed to de-stress from school so off to WS I went.  During an earlier session there I found a cookbook that would make a good Christmas gift for me from Devoted Spouse (yes I often pick up my own gifts for him to hold onto, but that’s another story) and I was also running out of their fabulous pecan pumpkin spread (if you haven’t tried it, go there right now and buy some; it is to die).  I was truly looking forward to a quiet meander through the shop.

As soon as I crossed the threshold I was attacked by someone who was just flaming (and I don’t mean to offend but he was so far over the top as to be comical) — he had his adorable apron tied just so, he had the overdone gesturing going on, and his voice was booming and oh-so valley girl I just wanted to scream and run away.  He tried to help and I let him a little and before I knew it he had picked up what I wanted, dropped it off at the counter, and had me firmly in hand dragging me to other parts of the store — we passed some kitchen tools and I wanted to pick up the wooden mallet and brain him on his overly coiffed head.  But before I could pick up any implement of dandy destruction he was steering me to the extremely expensive and utterly not on my list espresso machine and he simply had to make me a cup of coffee that he just knew I would think heavenly.  I was so trapped and so unhappy I actually gulped down a cup of the world’s worst espresso just to get him away from me!  OMG he called me pumpkin!  Then he literally pulled me over to the other equally overpriced coffee machines and I finally had to just tell him I’d add it to my wish list and I got out of there barely being able to breathe; I was that smothered.

Why do we have such extremes in shopping assistants — the ones who latch onto you and decide for you what you want and what you need and then there are those who will totally ignore you even when you look right at them and try to get their attention.   I want helpful, not clinging and I sure don’t want someone shoving their inventory down my throat just because they’ve been told to push the product. 

I may have to shop Williams Sonoma through the catalog for awhile while I recover from this trauma.

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2 thoughts on “Here, Pumpkin, Let Me Help You

  1. I have to admit that I like your use of the word “flaming”. I went to a luau with three friends in Hawaii. One of the dancers was quite obviously a “flamer”. When I pointed at him later and remarked to one friend that he was a “flamer”, my other friend quickly responded, “No that wasn’t the guy who was the flamethrower.” I laughed because she obviously had no clue what I meant. Linda, next time just take out the fire extinquisher and I bet he (MTAE) leaves you alone.
    flamer, flamethrower, some just don’t get it, huh? If I encounter him again I’m going to stick to my guns and tell him to flame off – I want to browse, baby, browse! 🙂

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