A smackdown in the shoe department

Do you ever go into a store and feel like the sales staff is stalking you like a gazelle? There is a certain furniture store in town that My Honey and I cringe whenever we’re forced to go in there for something. From the minute you walk in the door, the sales staff bombard you. It doesn’t matter if you avoid eye contact or sprint or even snarl at them, they will stay just four steps behind you and try to look unthreatening all while  growling and snapping at any other sales people who dare to edge toward your vicinity. Those people do everything but pee on your leg to stake you as their claim.  

Today, Ava and I went to Dillards to find shoes – one of the Sister’s favorite things. The welcome feeling of giddiness slid over us as we saw the six or so racks of clearance shoes in the back of the department.

“Can I get you any sizes?” the voice wormed its way into our conversation.

“No, thank you. We’re just looking,” Ava told the salesman. He gave us his name which we promptly forgot.

Ava was searching for silver sandals. I think I’ve expressed this before, but when Ava goes shopping for something specific it’s a recipe for frustration. The thing she wants is a figment of her imagination. It will never be found. It’s a unicorn.

We wandered through the shoes displayed on podiums and racks all over the floor. I picked up approximately 125 shoes that met her qualifications and showed them to her. 

“Can I get you some sizes?” a new voice intruded. Just like last time, we brushed him off and he gave us his name which we promptly forgot.

 I showed Ava shoes which she poo-pooed for one reason or another. Several more sales people approached us, gave us their name and we forgot every single one.

Finally a sales woman came up and introduced herself as Ava. That is the only reason we remembered her.

We figured that the sales people must work on commission. Our theory was cinched when we couldn’t find Salesperson Ava so we let another sales person “get us a size”.  A melee ensued.

I’m not sure how much commission either salesperson is going to get for the rest of the day with those Jessica Simpson stilettos sticking out of their skulls.

 Do you have a plan for avoiding the type A salesperson? Please share cause they scare the hell out of us.