Dear Lady-Who-Works-in-a-Clothing-Store-I-Really-Like-Who-Makes-Me-Not-Want-To-Go-Into-Said-Store,
How are you? How was that thing you were going to that you were excited about that was happening that time? And that other thing you mentioned once when I just wanted you to stop talking to me?
Look, you’re probably a very nice and mildly interesting person, a human being with deep feelings… who feels things deeply. And perhaps if we’d met outside of the retail environment we could have been really, really distant friends – the kind who don’t have each other’s phone numbers but occasionally “like” photos of one another’s pets on Facebook.
But unfortunately we met in the store in which you work, and as such I have disproportionate feelings of ill will towards you. That is not to say I feel ill will towards all the people who work in your store, or the people who work in stores in general. I love people who work in stores. I once worked in stores. Some of my family members work in stores. Some of my best gay friends work in stores.
You see the thing is, Lady-Who-Works-in-a-Clothing-Store-I-Really-Like-Who-Makes-Me-Not-Want-To-Go-Into-Said-Store (if that is even your real name), I just can’t stand your sales style. As a seasoned, dedicated shopper and one-time retail assistant myself, I believe that the most important skill a clothes hawker can have is the ability to read people. There are shoppers who need a lot of help, they want suggestions on what to try on and told how to put new outfits together; and then there are shoppers who prefer to explore the racks for themselves and put together their own outfits, they may ask for advice occasionally but do not appreciate unsolicited help. I am a long-time, card-carrying member of the latter group, but you seem convinced I belong to the former.
I guess what I’m trying to say is…well…this:
Sometimes a Michael Bolton video is the best way to get one’s point across, don’t you think?
Anyway, I’d really like to stop running out of the store like a shifty maniac every time I walk in and see that you’re working, and so I have a few requests:
Please stop following me around the store pulling out random items that I “will absolutely love”. Not once have you been right.
Please stop telling me that whatever I’m trying on will “look great with shorts or a little skirt”. I am in possession of neither shorts nor any skirt that could ever be defined as ‘little’.
Please stop telling me I’ve lost weight every time I enter the premises. I haven’t.
Please stop asking how my boyfriend is. I don’t have one. I’m not sure to whom you’re referring but asking about my non-existent man-love makes an arse out of you and me.
And, most importantly, please stop calling me Nadia. My name is Nadine. I know, I don’t like it either but I’m stuck with it and therefore so are you.
Provided all of the above criteria are met I believe you and I will get along just fine and I will never have to hide from you between the racks again.
I’m glad we had this chat.
Kisses,
Nadine von Cohen