Sales Is Not My Strong Suit

There comes a point in every person’s life when living off an allowance from Mummy and Daddy just doesn’t cut it. 

Unless your parents are Rockefellers.

Mine weren’t.

So off I went in search of a job.

I had worked for several years as a cashier in a grocery store…but that’s another story.

This time I wanted something with a bit more ‘class’.

To me, this meant The Mall.

I worked my way up one side and down the other, going into every store determined to get a job.

I got turned down by every single one.

Until I entered a small independent dress shop.

At first the owner thought I was a customer and was annoyed that I was asking for work.

But I guess I wore her down and she finally said, “Okay. You can work here this afternoon and if I like you, you can have a job.”

I was thrilled!

I was to assist the customers in choosing items and help them to try them on.

Okay, I can do that. 

Easy peasy!

It turns out there is a knack to that.

A knack that I woefully don’t possess.

You see, I tell the truth.

Over the years I’ve learned to temper the truth with kindness, but back then I was still, let’s just say, a little in need of learning the art of tact.

So when a rather portly woman entered the shop I was ill prepared to do what the owner wanted.

To begin with the shop was called ‘7-9-11’.

An indication of the sizes it offered.

This woman was most definitely in the wrong store.

But that didn’t stop the owner from fawning all over her in an attempt to sell something.

She deftly got the woman interested in a rather clingy lounging outfit of ecru satin, shoved her into the tiny dressing room and called out encouragement as the woman changed.

When the customer came out of the dressing room it was…….horrible.

But the shop owner kept complimenting her on how lovely she looked, how her husband was going to go gaga over her.….blah, blah, blah….

You could see the customer was not quite sure whether to believe what she saw in the mirror or what the shop owner was telling her.

So she asked me.

I was torn between really needing this job or sending this poor overweight woman out into the world looking like someone had tried to stuff her ample proportions into a too small sausage casing.

I guess you know how it ended.

I didn’t get the job.

What I did get was an unmitigated tongue lashing from the store owner who admonished me NEVER to darken her doorstep again.

But I did get a quiet thank you from the customer.

I wouldn’t have liked working there anyway.