Jul 24, 2006 01:08
So we made no money at work today (well, yesterday, but if I haven't slept it's still today). No really, no money. I didn't sell a single thing. Good thing I don't get paid on commission I guess!
Only six people came in and one of them was a transvestite! Haven't had one come in in ages! Totally adorable, but I always find myself wanting so badly to pull them aside and say, "Psst! You should wear light colours on the bottom and dark colours on the top to give the illusion of smaller shoulders and larger hips!" You know, the opposite of what women normally do. But I can't say anything because I'd feel like I was making a criticism of them as a person, because how they dress is so much of who they are. But he (um, she? Oh dear) was really nice and said thank you when he (damn I don't know!) left.
But all the transvestites I've come across (admittedly not a lot, but still) always choose the worst kinds of women's clothes, really slutty or really sissy, horrible pink floral things and white tops and pvc (pvc! E-gad!) and you have to think, is this what they think looks good on a woman? Do other people think this too? If they do, then I think I'm in trouble!
And one of the other people who came in was a complete and utter weirdo! He came in while I was tiding up the racks (gotta do something when no one is there, might as well get the place spick and span!) so I say, "Hi! How are you today?" and he makes this really strange little noise in his throat and so I think way to go to treat me like a human being you arsehole and go tidy up on the other side of the shop.
He stands in the men’s section and just looks at the clothes. He doesn't touch them, he just looks at them. For ages. And then he comes over to the women's section and just stands and looks and I think should I say something? But I'm just a little weirded out so I don't. And he stands and looks. Finally he sort of side steps towards me and says, "Hello."
I smile just a little fearfully, "Can I help you?"
"I have a retro thing to go to. Do you have any retro... things?"
I tell him we do and bustle over to the men’s stuff explaining that really, he could just get away with a paisley shirt and jeans these days. So I pull out a few shirts in what looks like his size telling him that any of them would be suitable. He says, "What about 80's? 'Cause that's what it is."
I grumble inwardly. Why didn't he say so? The word retro is synonymous with 60's fashion. I can not read minds! So I tell him that there are a number of ways he could go with 80s - there's the tail-end of punk, and mod, and greed is good (power suits and the like), or there's always the Boy George look (which I always suggest but for some reason people never go for) and I'm pointing out a few things as I'm telling him this and then I turn to him and ask him what sort of look he was thinking about and he just stands there and looks at me. He also grins a bit stupidly. I wait for a long moment. Finally I force a smile and say (a tad too cheerfully), "Well then! I'll just leave you to it!" And stalk off to fetch my coffee.
For crying out loud! You've got to give me something here people! I don't know what people are expecting when they come to my shop, but I can't magic up a whole outfit that is even in the ball park of what you want if you don't even give me anything to work with! Even if you do tell me what you want, I probably won't be able to pull it together exactly how you want it because guess what arseholes, it's not a fucking costume shop. We sell clothes. It's a clothing store.
I'm getting pretty damn fucking sick of this shit, you know? They come to my store, expecting to get a fabulous costume on the cheap, without even realising that the reason you pay so much for a proper costume from a proper costume store is because of the service involved. They will run around and fetch you what you want, they have all their stuff organised into eras and themes - we don't because we don't do costumes. We do clothes.
I'm not fucking doing it anymore. I'm sick and tired of people thinking I'm lying to them, or just standing there stupidly. Do some fucking research or something, go rent an 80's film, type '80's fashion' into google, fucking something. Because I've fucking had enough.