As if going to the mall wasn’t agonizing enough, now we get shadowed, stalked and swooped on by chirpy salespouncers with tag team tactics. And they never remember that you just passed them 10 minutes ago so every time you give them the same “no,” they look at you like you vivisected their puppy.
And you can feel when they’ve spotted you. So you walk faster. Look busy. Make that face like you’re in a very important hurry.
“Miss, does your hair ever get frizzy?” You answer “no” even though you’re both perfectly aware that your head looks like a bird nest exploded.
Before you know it, you’ve walked right past the store you wanted. You need to turn back, but The Pouncer is there. Now you’re fucked. You pass by and relive it all like a scene from “Groundhog Day.” Again. And again.
Sometimes you make eye contact with some poor slob who got suckered in. There they stand at the kiosk, getting sprayed, slimed, brushed, and bejeweled. An odd cross between a grandpa ambushed by a preschooler game of Beauty Parlor and a deer dragged into an alligator pond.
Never quit. Never give up. Never! Stop! Walking!
While we're on the subject of shopping aggravation...
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