people that know our hero janklow –and we’ll assume that this includes you, loyal reader, since odds are, if you’re one of the three people reading this, you’re really only doing so because you DO know me and there’s some lingering sense of obligation at work– can probably imagine that i do not enjoy a visit to most places populated with the lowest common denominators of humanity, or, really, any humanity. after all, i may really, really love guns and thus love gun shows, but i’ll be damned if i am not almost IMMEDIATELY annoyed with at least 50% of the people at those gun shows. and those are my people! luckily, they are able to redeem themselves in my eyes by casting pro-gun votes in elections.
anyway, a prime, prime example of a location deeming with the “average man” (and woman) not naming “Wal-Mart,” is, of course, the local mall. now i really, really do try to avoid the mall: generally when i happen to be there, i mostly notice that they’ve phased out more things like books in favor of “additional access to skinny jeans.” and let’s be honest: i worked in a food court of a mall once, and that seemed like it took about 50 years of my life away, so there might be a little bit of a grudge there. unfortunately, i managed to smash all my glasses within a span of a week or so (okay, three weeks, but the last couple of pairs were mashed on back-to-back days, whatever), and when i go to get my lenses replaced… i have to go to the mall.
but luckily, i have some sociological observations!
i don’t care how scenic the Dead Sea is, Israel, i’m not buying your exfoliating scrubs if your salesmen are such dicks
the inexplicable nature of this insulting foreigner salesman
so your hero (again, janklow) is hustling to pick up his glasses when this salesman at one of those kiosks (i am going to presume it’s one of those that sells Israeli scrubs based on Dead Sea salts or whatever) asks him if he wants to try something to cleanse his face. now, let’s be honest: most of us don’t like being singled out from a crowd to be sold a product, and i personally am not exception. oh, and i don’t really want to become one of those guys spending good money on facial products; i’m not criticizing anyone that does, but it’s not me. at the same time, one tries not to just be an asshole to random people, even salesmen, because, you know, we’re living in a SOCIETY here. so i politely (i swear) say, no thanks, and keep walking.
now this is typically where you, as a salesman, cut your losses and move on to the next mark, right? not this Israeli dude (i base this on both his accent and his product), who proceeds to take the following inexplicable steps:
#01. politely ask “one moment” and do that thing where you reach out to give someone the IMPRESSION you’re touching their arm/shoulder, but without the actual touching that sometimes prompts a lawsuit and/or a knife in the groin;
#02. apologizes for his English, which, to be fair, wasn’t bad at all, despite his strong accent, but it’s also possible he apologized for his accent, although i could have SWORN it was the former;
#03. sets me up for the burn by asking, “do you use any products on your face?” i answer no (curse you, social contract!), and am about to turn away and keep moving, when…
#04. he hits me with the burn: “well, you should.” and then he immediately goes back to hustling his product.
now, an aggressive salesman is one thing (i do have a story about an unfunny shouting match between myself and a credit card program’s salesman got into fucking RANDOMLY) and a rude salesman is one thing –and let me note that the very concept of “rude salesman” seems pointless, since ultimately you’re supposed to be selling me your product, and i can’t see how being an asshole to ANY potential customer helps with that, but then hey, what the fuck do i know about the sales industry, right?– but a rude salesman who apologizes for his speech before talking shit? who the hell does THAT?
granted, it’s entirely possible that he really WASN’T talking shit, and that it was sort of a “here’s my throwaway advice BUT NOW I AM IMMEDIATELY GOING BACK TO WORK” type of remark… but who does THAT either? and then there’s the whole “you really had to be there to hear his tone BLAH BLAH BLAH part. so i’m taking it how i want to take it: so fucking WEIRD.
in order to counterbalance the incoming sexism, i went with an image of strong female power. YOU GO, LONG-DEAD 1940s-ERA GIRLS
what i shall refer to as “booby trap” girls
DISCLAIMER: this is probably going to get accidentally sexist, so i apologize in advance to all my sisters out there. stay strong in the face of, well, i guess me, ladies.
anyway, one thing i think we’ve all heard is that when you’re seriously dating a woman, you need to examine the condition of her mother, on the grounds that, well, to put it unkindly, that’s what you’re in store for in the future if you keep her around. it’s not 100% for obvious reasons, but you know, for mysteriously reasons like “parentage,” whatever the condition of the mother, you can see the similarities. except…
so i am at this mall and i am waiting for, i think, service on these glasses (the timing of this story is not that important) and a girl and her mother are doing some shopping right nearby. now, this girl is, to put it politely, well put together. not trying to be a creeper here (seriously), just a straight-up observation… but her mother is a goddamn TRAIN WRECK.
now, right, it’s not 100% and you could probably argue stuff like “maybe it’s her stepmother?” or “maybe it’s her beloved aunt with whom she has a mother-like relationship but shares different genes with?” or whatever… but i am going to assume, based on the overheard conversation, that they were actual mother and daughter. and to this i can only say: if some guy doesn’t scope out this mother in advance, he’s likely to find this girl to be one HELL of a booby trap when she turns 40 or so.
for the love of good, NEVER GOOGLE SEARCH “FUCKING TEENAGERS” WITH SAFESEARCH TURNED OFF. anyway, these kids are having a good time
me wanting to punch kids in the face
ultimately, i can’t do this: it’s illegal and i am way too small to not pay the ultimate price for it. but i think it definitely speaks to what age you’re at in life: at one point, the swarms of dumbass teenagers seem inexplicably cool, then they’re your peers (for better or worse), then they’re what you look back on and smile, and finally, you just want to hit them all in the face for the myriad of dumbass things you see them saying and doing. granted, i might have going directly from five years old to the latter category, but what the hell, it is what it is. DAMN KIDS!
anyway, that’ll be it for now, so, on to the next one.