Saturday, November 15, 2008

The Pick-up Artist

After I went to the gym today, I went to the mall. I had some errands to run, and I didn't really care if I looked like a gym rat as I did them.

This mall has a kiosk seemingly every ten feet, staffed by people who are either hawking their wares and stopping everyone they can or those who are sitting and playing with their phones. It's the ones who are stopping everyone they can that drive me crazy. I'm usually shopping alone and a very easy target. (If one more person tries to sell me skin scrub from the Dead Sea, so help me . . .)

So, I'm walking down the corridor on my way to my last store when I hear some noise and look over and see this guy, and I'm not kidding, pulling me in on an imaginary rope.

We start chatting about my morning, what I'm shopping for, what I've already bought, and eventually, what he's selling.

He's good at his job. I know because I used to be in sales and was also really good at it. He's so good at his job, that I ended up buying from him. (This may also have to do with the fact that I've been sort of looking for what he was selling.)

Incidentally, he's selling makeup. The all-natural mineral stuff. In the course of doing my makeup and selling me on it, he says "So, when are we going out?"

"That's rather forward."

"Well, I'm from Israel [interestingly enough so is EVERYONE I've ever talked to who's working at kiosks like this] and we're forward. If I asked if you would, that gives you the option to say no."

I laugh.

"So when we have babies."

I laugh harder.

"See. That was more forward."

We went back to the sales pitch and other random conversational topics and after he's gotten the sale, he hugs me. I can tell that if I were putting more effort into it, it'd be a really good hug. He's also complimented me throughout.

He only did half my face during the sales pitch, so he offers to finish it, after which, he pulls out his cell phone and asks me for my number.

For some reason, I actually gave it to him.

Did I mention that he looks Zachary Quinto, but even hotter? He complimented me, did my makeup, and asked for my number while I looked like a gym rat who hadn't washed her hair in days (which, incidentally, I hadn't).

I have no idea if he'll actually call, but it kind of made my day that he even asked.


Roxie said...

Nobody ever tries to pick me up. Either that or I just never notice.