(s)mall observation

The most shameless thing to do while inside the mall “shopping” is to try on every item you can, exhaust the clerk to the point of paralysis by asking different sizes and different colors and different styles of that particular item (in this case, the clerk still has to do a circumferential detour all through the whole mall before getting to the stock room).

Then when you finally have this item with you, you check and inspect and examine it without giving a damn about the time or somehow the least bit of consideration that you might not be the only customer that needs attending. So, after ten years of your scrutiny and the clerk, at last, asks you so kindly if you are going to buy that thing, what you do is to smile your sweetest yet fakest, and with the most sugary, syrupy, patronizing konyo voice you can muster, you say, “No, thank you, it’s not that good.” while you stalk on your heels, stomach in, bulging chest out, full-of-yourself flair of the hair, without so much as a second glance as if you are the most majestic, important, perfect life form to grace the face of the earth.


Duh.