Ridiculous night at the mall
It was about 3:30 this afternoon, and I was trying to decide what to do tonight, when a coworker called and asked me to cover her shift. I'm glad I did, as it was an amusing evening.
First, a couple came in and bought tons of stuff. They paid with a merchandise credit card for a random large amount like $138.15. Now, cards like that are rarely obtained legitimately; there is almost always shoplifting and fraud behind how they are obtained. (Usually, someone steals expensive stuff, then returns it without a receipt and gets store credit in form of a merchandise credit card.) The shoppers tonight may not have done any stealing, as the card could easily have been bought off someone else, knowingly or not. Anyway, as they brought their stuff to the register, the man leaned in behind the woman, spooning her while they stood up, while whispering what certainly must have been some rather racy stuff, if her giggles and "mmmm"s were any indication. They acted like I wasn't there, and soon they started to talk a little louder. I heard snippets, starting with the man.
"The Eagles' Nest... hit it..." he whispered. I only heard half of what he said.
"Mmmmm," she murmured.
"You know I want to."
"Pshhhhh!"
"You're gonna make me beg for it."
"You silly!" She stood back and stared at him in disbelief.
"C'mon, baby." He leaned in and whispered God-knows-what he wanted to do with her.
"You must be stupid."
"Mmmm-mmm-mmm." He smiled at her turned head.
(Also, when I was ringing them up, my coworker asked me over the headset if he should do something. [Something boring, like bring out a box of Mango Mandarin shower gel.] I replied, "Go for it!" and the couple looked up, startled, like I was telling THEM that. And actually, I wanted to.)
So, folks, if you go to the Eagles' Nest anytime soon, keep your eyes out for these sketchy fools. (For the non-Indy crowd, that's a restaurant at the top of a downtown hotel that slowly turns in a circle.)
Oddly, they didn't buy any massage oil.
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Later on, a weird woman wearing short shorts and an ill-fitting leopard-print bra under a ruffly white tank top came in and awkwardly tried to hit on my co-manager, Rae. She made sure to call Rae by her name (which she read off her nametag), telling her she was going to Victoria's Secret, getting too close, etc. This fro-sporting, vaguely 1970's woman also acted like she might steal something, but I don't think she did. I can be pretty sure, as I talked to her the whole time so I could keep an eye on her. She did, however, manage to spray no less than 8 different eau de toilettes, multiple times, in the same spot. I almost choked.
But the best part of the night was towards close, when I passed by Rae helping a guy around my age select some Aromatherapy trial-size lotions. I popped into the conversation for just a minute, telling which scent was my favorite. The guy smiled a lot at me, and he was friendly and pleasant-looking, but I made sure my coworker Michael rang him up- no need to get too friendly. English was not this fellow's first language, which came into play shortly. As he was leaving, he started talking to me.
Guy: Thank you!
Me: (In my cheerful sales clerk manner) Have a nice night.
Guy: (Walking closer, trying to read my nametag) What is your name?
Me: Kati.
Guy: Oh... you work here every day?
Me: (Politely vague... it's the way to go in these situations) Oh, not every day. I work different times on different days.
Guy: Have you graduated from school? (It was hard to understand- he may have said "high school".)
Me: I've graduated from college.
Guy: Oh... (He proceeded to ask me something incoherent.)
Me: What?
Guy: (More incoherence)
Me: (Deciding to just answer a question he might reasonably have asked, rather than actually find out what he really asked) I studied to be a teacher. And soon I'm going to Japan to teach English.
Guy: Japan?! Wow. Sooo... you teach English?
Me: (I could see where this was headed.) Well, I'm certified to do so, but I don't teach in the States.
Guy: Because I could use English lessons. I need help with English grammar!
Me: Oh, I don't give lessons here. And I'm leaving soon. For Japan.
Guy: I go to IUPUI, and I could use help. I could use a tutor!
Me: Where are you from?
Guy: Saudi Arabia. Will you be my tutor?
Me: (Very innocently, like I really believe all he wants is an English tutor) Oh, I'm sure if you asked your professors at IUPUI, they'd help you find a tutor!
Guy: Oh... so you're leaving this month? (He sees an in- he only needs a short-term tutor! Surely I can't be leaving this month.)
Me: Oh, I'm not sure! They haven't told me. I have no idea when I'm going, but it's soon! (Big smiles the whole time.)
Guy: (Finally realizing the futility of his effort) Ah... well, have a good night, Kati.
Me: You too! (Huuuuge sales clerk smile!)
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Even better, this is not the first time the old "you should teach me English!" line has been used on me- at this mall, no less. No indeed, this guy's game was unoriginal. About two years ago I had a similar encounter with a Kuwaiti guy, here to study at Purdue. Before he began there, though, he needed to learn English, he said, and so he just spent his days at the mall, talking to people. (He also bought a lot of Gucci stuff, his bags and clothes indicated, leading me to think the guy's father owned a couple of oil fields.)
I could tell where this culture-clash was headed right way, but our conversation lasted a few minutes before I could escape, and it didn't take long for him to ask me to be his girlfriend. (Except actually, his English was so "beginner-level" that he asked me to be his boyfriend, but I didn't bother to correct him. Someone else did later on, I'm sure.)
I said no, and he pouted. "But... having girlfriend help me learn English!" he said with pleading eyes, as though my burning desire to teach my native tongue would surely propel me into his arms. (This was long before I ever considered teaching English abroad, I should add.)
"No," I replied, "I don't think my boyfriend would like that." (I think in reality, I was single at the time... the timeline is a little fuzzy... but whether I actually had a boyfriend was unimportant.)
"Oh..." he pouted again for a minute, then turned to me with a hopeful smile. "Your boyfriend... does he live close?"
That was when I excused myself.
