I had to open at the mall today. It's weird being there in the morning, the only people who shop in the morning are old people.
Funny thing about old people and shoes, they always buy the same damn pair. I'm not kidding. It's not uncommon for me to get two or three elderly customers a day (especially when we have sales) who walk in, find the same exact pair Rockport "athletic" shoes as the ones they enter the mall with, in the very same snot color, in precisely the same size. Old people treat shoes like tires, after they wear out they just replace 'em with the same kind. If both left and right feet were the same shape and pointed straight out I imagine they'd just get their shoes rotated.
After my daily couple of gray hairs, business really picked up toady. I had as many as 10 or more customers in the shoes section at one time, with only me to attend to them. Funny how they all show up at once....A daunting task when you must speak with each one to assure no one feels neglected and even worse when you are still unfamiliar with the stock room. It becomes even more of a challenge when customers request unusual shoe sizes and widths that are way up on top of the shelves or down on the very bottom by the floor. Dashing in and out of the stockroom and climbing up and down ladders has turned out to be a good source of exercise, on the bright side.
I hate it when men come in with their wives. They've already picked out the shoes they want but somehow the wife always convinces him to change his mind. Often I'll bring out several boxes of shoes in different styles in sizes and after an hour the person will decide they like none of them, and I'm left to sort out the mess. It happened this afternoon with some geriatric dude and his probably gold digging trophy wife. The only reason I was able to maintained my curteous disposition as long as I did was because everytime I returned from the stock room I would find the man's wife bent over helping the guy with his shoes; as she did, her gigantic melons wobbled around in a loose fitting lacey pink blouse. I think she caught me peeping a few times and to my utter amazement she winked at me. Twice. I appreciate the gesture, but what was I supposed to do? I was busy. She probably only did it so that she could laugh at the mental image of me coaching down a massive erection everything I went back to the stock room.
fortunately the busty woman and her old man left and another group arrived that I believe helped thin the number of patrons in my department. The group a man, woman and their three rowdy children helped frighten away many potential sales. The kids were screaming all at once and treating the foot stools like little slides. Not to safe. Of course, someone got hurt. Which meant someone cried, which meant all three snot nosed kids cried; which meant the fourth kid, a baby began to cry and could only be consoled by being offered a breast on which to suck on. She did, with blaring 5.1 dolby digital sucking sound effects that made many passerbys turn and head into suits, or suddenly loose interest in the rack of super cheap sandals that they weren't going to buy anyway. The kid I liked the most in the group was #5, the one that had yet to make an appearance. He or she could cry as long as he or she wanted just so long as he or she stayed put in the Mom.
Other interesting customers include:
Marketing Guy- who loved to scream about 'The Project' on his cellphone and left me his credit card to pay for some shoes when he went off to pick through suits and continue chatting obnoxiously with some type of miester!
Ghetto Guys- group of do-rag wearin' dudes who love to mess up the Timberlands section so I have to organize it again. Timberlands are like Doc Martins except that they simultaneously better looking, and less cool. Loved by gangstas and Tidus from FFX alike.
The Master- Shoe aficionado who knows more about shoes than I do even though I work there. Generally a middle aged man. Generally shops alone, probably because people get sick of hearing him say stupid stuff like comfort isn't as important as the quality of leather. The Master knows everything about every company; where they're based, what they specialize in, what they fuck up. Masters love Johnston & Murphy, after years of studying the art of Spend-Fu they know JM will give you the least bang for your buck but still make you look awesome, even if you have purchase an almost equal amount in shoe polish to maintain that yuppie sheen.
Bad Credit Woman- Wants to buy a gift for her husband because "he deserves it" the catch? The gift is purchased with his card. She grabs the most expensive shoes on display and slaps down the card. Without much surprise on my part, it's rejected. It seems that her name has been taken off the account, and that none of her other personal cards or checks are accepted. It also seems that everyone she knows has finally wised but about her spending habit. It seems Mrs. Whatever has never heard of regular old paper money before.
