GOOD THANX



If only things were this simple.

I was reading an interview in The Sunday Telegraph's Sunday magazine yesterday with Melissa Bergland, who plays Jenny Gross in Winners and Losers. She was venting about inane communication, and had this to say about store clerks:

"You buy something in a store and the clerk will say, "Is that all today?" It makes me want to reply, "No, I'll also have everything in aisle six. That's why I'm here at the counter just purchasing these items."

So true. But I have much more to say on this topic. Here's a recount of a not-uncommon retail experience. And here is a language warning. [Ladylike girls always give language warnings. Then we say what we like.]

I walk into a shop and all I want to do is browse in peace, but I can feel the shop assistant's eyes searing into my forehead the second I put a foot in the door. I try not to make eye contact, but then relent and figure the sooner I give her some attention the sooner she'll leave me the hell alone.

Shop Assistant One: "Hi! How are you?"

"Good thanks." 

Shop Assistant Two: "Hi! How are you?"

"Good." 

Shop Assistant Three: "Hi! How are you?"

Closed-mouth one-second smile. F % * K. O F F.

I finally get a few moments by myself, but the second I pluck a hanger from the rack a chirpy shop assistant glides up to my shoulder, "Would you like me to put that in the change room for you?" she asks. She glares at the sparkly floral skinny jeans in my hands, which, had I the chance to spend a couple more seconds with, I'd have rightly returned to the rack.

"Thanks, that would be great", I say, and surrender the item. I know you think I'm a shoplifter, but sure, I'll play along.

After I've scanned the shop, and all staff are aware that I'm "Good Thanks", or think I'm deaf/a bitch, both of which I'm fine with, I finally make it to the change room where my items await. Twenty seconds later I've managed to remove a sock and the shop assistant stations herself outside my curtain and calls out, "How's everything going, can I get you any other sizes?"

"No thanks!" (F%*k off!)

Shop Assistant: "Show us the dress when it's on!"

Silence from behind my curtain. You're dreaming, stupid bitch.

She leaves me alone for three minutes before coming back. "How's everything going?"

I'm stuck in a dress that is three sizes too snug, I'm trying to get it off but the dress is jammed around my torso, my arms are flailing in the air and I look like a retarded caterpillar trying to writhe my way out of it. My cheeks are flushed, my hair is a mess, my ponytail is perpendicular to my earlobe, I can hear zipper teeth ripping and I'm think I'm going to have to live in this dress for the rest of my life.

"Good thanks!", I call out.

Five minutes later, the yoga classes have paid off and I've managed to escape out of the dress. It's seen better days. I straighten my ponytail and make my way to the counter with the jacket and top I've decided to buy. The shop assistant picks up the first garment and shakes it in the air, pretending to get out the creases, when she's actually checking for stolen items that she thinks I've stashed in the arm holes.

"There's nothing in there", I feel like saying. "The seven scarves I'm stealing are in my handbag, and I'm wearing five cardigans under my t-shirt. I thought that would work out better for me than letting you shake my loot onto the counter."

"This top is so cute isn't it!?"

No. It's f%*king ugly. That's why I thought I'd buy it.

"I love this jacket. I have it in blue."

I don't give a f%*k. Actually I'm not sure I want it anymore.

"Doing a little shopping today?"

No, I'm actually at work at the moment. After this I'm going to try out for the Shot Put in the 2012 Olympics.

This is too hard. It's really not worth it. "Um, I think I can hear my Mum calling [from our backyard, seven suburbs away]... gotta run!"


GOOD. THANX.

Image: ONE