Ranty Friday – Those Annoying Sea Salt Scrub Salespeople

From now on Friday is going to be ‘Ranty Friday’ where I post a blog of whatever or whoever is annoying me that week (I don’t know how on earth I’ll narrow it down).

Ranty Friday is a blog hop brought to you by Mummy Barrow.

sea salt scrub

The most annoying people on the planet

I love Westfield London. All my favourite stores are under one roof and unlike anywhere else near where I live I can drive there and park my car without a problem. Also being Australian and a lifelong frequenter of their shopping centres, I was thrilled when they opened their first one here in London.

I’m a power shopper, a woman on a mission. I always know what I’m going there to buy and am nearly always in a hurry.

So nothing aggravates me more than getting stopped by one of those highly irritating people trying to sell you their ‘Dead Sea Salt Scrub’. You know the ones, they have little vending stalls in the middle of the shopping centre. They’re like angry bees, buzzing around the honeypot, ready to strike without warning.

I hate them.

I hate that there are so many of them that no matter which side you walk on they hunt you down and harass you like a crack addict looking for loose change. You can stand there and plan your move  but it’s impossible to get past them and if you slow down they’ll grab you with their sea salty claws and plaster your arm with their horrible goo.

‘Can I just ask you a question’ is their usual line and I always feel sorry for the sorts of people who find it hard to say no because I bet you there are millions of them the world over with cupboards full of Dead Sea salt scrub.

They’re like meerkats, always on guard looking for unsuspecting victims while the other ones forage and dig. Except the only place they dig is into your pocket.

The trick is to not even acknowledge them, or slow down and you never, EVER make eye contact. If you do, you may as well hand over your wallet. Rudeness is the only solution.

Imagine if other shops started doing that too? Jimmy Choo sales ladies running after you wielding a this seasons snake-skin pump, trying to haggle with you. The horror!

What’s so special about Dead Sea salt scrub that they don’t have to actually entice customers into their shop like the other 299 stores in Westfield? How come they get to bypass that and harass every single unsuspecting fool that walks past?

How do you avoid them? Do you ignore them or are you too kind to tell them to bugger off?

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