Scene
Sports goods shop, trainers section. TMWSC is looking at the Hi-Tec display trainer. Within touching distance are two members of staff - a chap with a walkie talkie, talking (not on the walkie talkie) to a young woman who was without a walkie talkie, but talking to the man. There is no other shopper in the store, and the two assistants were happy talking and not too interested in TMWSC, although his presence is acknowledged because they had to move in order that he could get to see the Hi-Tec retailing at £21.99
Male Assistant: "Are you okay there?"
TMWSC: "Have you got this in a size 10 please?"
The chap decides to talk into the walkie talkie. The female has stopped talking while this goes on. There is no answer to his request, so he turns to the female assistant.
Male Assistant: "Could you go upstairs and get these in a ten?"
The female assistant leaves to go upstairs, resting her throat.
Male Assistant: "Do you need any socks to go with them today?"
TMWSC: "No ta - you are joking, aren't you? That's the funniest up-sell I've heard this year!"
The chap looks a bit sheepish and has nothing to say. After a few seconds, during which his brain cells regroup, he engages once more, just as TMWSC starts to edge away, towards the till.
Male Assistant: "Will you be trying them on?"
TMWSC: "No, they'll be fine - this must be the 25th pair of these I've bought."
Male Assistant: "Okay; she'll be down in a sec and will take them to the checkout."
TMWSC edges away slowly again, heading towards the far corner. The chap has had time to think of another approach.
Male Assistant: "While we're waiting, have you thought of blah blah blah, which cushion the foot, blah blah?"
TMWSC managed to catch some vague detail about 'gel' and an insert, although he hadn't actually realised the assistant was accompanying him in a 'waiting' state, as he was moving away from the footwear area en route to the till.
TMWSC: "If I've bought more than 25 pairs, don't you think I'd have established by now if I need an insert. No thanks."
In the corner of the shop, a sour-looking female was busying herself with something that was non-productive as TMWSC neared. He stopped and gave his attention to his phone, during the wait for the return from outer space of the female assistant shoe-hunter [not quite the same ring to it as 'Vampire Slayer' or 'Whale Watcher']. The wait extended to a further two minutes, after which came further interaction. She appeared from an opening to the left side of the counter, holding a brown box, and clocked the presence of TMWSC
Female Assistant: "Don't you want to try them on?"
TMWSC: "No thanks, they'll be all right."
Female Assistant: "Okay. Size 10."
She passed the brown box to the non-smiling cashier, who opened the lid, took out one trainer, and spoke without any eye contact.
Cashier: "Size 10?"
TMWSC: "Yep."
TMWSC wondered whether she might have been suited to helping a surgeon, as her talent of repeating as a form of checking details was astounding. ['Scalpel, Clamps . .' ] The conscientiousness was amusing, and he wondered whether a time traveller would have been able to muscle in during the handover of the brown box, to replace the trainers with an alternative pair as a spoof, perhaps in a size 5. As it was, the Female Assistant had stated "Size 10" as the box found the hand of the Cashier, and this was still the size of the footwear upon the box being opened.
After confirming 'Size 10', TMWSC put £22 on the counter, as Brunhilde [made up name] bagged the box. Fortunately she did not feel the need to confirm that the other trainer he was midway through purchasing was a 'Size 10' - perhaps she assumed he'd be happy that both were the same size. She handed him a penny along with the box in a carrier bag.
TMWSC: "Thank you."
As he was negotiating the stupidly packed shop floor, and whirling around the mixture of circular and oblong rails, TMWSC spotted the Male Assistant. There was a very slight suggestion that he had not finished having input, as he raised an eyebrow and tried to catch the eye of TMWSC. Fearful of another attempt at an up-sell, TMWSC went anti-clockwise round the final rack of shite, and exited the shop.
...
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