As party of my dalliance with “getting a job” I bought a new suit at the weekend. This turned out to be quite an ordeal, mainly because it was sunny and I was hungover and desperate to get to the park, but also because I encountered a total sleaze of a salesman. What follows may sound a bit “Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells” but really…
After enduring some of his “patter” including interrogation-style questions on what I needed the suit for and then what kind of job I was looking for etc etc I emerged from the changing rooms (why can there not be a mirror inside the room?) to find that the suit I’d picked looked fine except you could see the lining of the pockets through the trousers. Not so good. Mr Sleaze then tried to convince me that he could get the pockets removed that afternoon and attempted all kind of sales chat. I wasn’t convinced and headed back in to get changed.
Out of my earshot, my shopping companion (who had also endured much of his chat) then said something to him like, “If you’re going to spend £100 on a pair of trousers you really want them to look right straight off.” To which he replied “Yeah, especially if you’re out of work.” The cheek! I wish I’d heard this at the time as low blood sugar levels might have caused me to mention that I’m not out of work and add something about how shop assistants slogging it out on a Saturday afternoon in a branch of Reiss don’t really have grounds to comment. But I didn’t. So I’m venting here instead.
Suffice to say, I got a very nice suit elsewhere.