Two-Headed Boy: Romance In The Retail World

February 13th, 2010

I have to work on Valentine’s Day at The Clothing Store, but it’s just as well.

If anyone’s wondering, there’s no Two-Headed Girl out there. I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school. Ever since it’s been a series of dead-ends, constantly slipping on the cruel banana peel of botched romance.

What’s a single guy to do?

I’ll tell you what — flirt, flirt, flirt with customers.

When I first started the job, I was trapped in the fitting room, buttoning and folding away my days. But recently I’ve been let out of the cage. I was register trained, and I also scoot around the floor handing out invaluable customer service. Well, kind of. More like: “The bathroom is in the back left!”

These new-found responsibilities leave me with the chance to interact with the fairer sex, which flock to our store in troves.

The Clothing Store has plenty of styles that appeal to everyone from high school girls to soccer-yet-still-stylish-moms. I’m not the best flirt in the world, but I’m certainly not the worst. Talking to beautiful customers is a good way to preoccupy time. I mean, I’m supposed to be helping them anyway.

I think my boredom at work has spawned a strange fantasy that somehow, through my impeccable service and friendly demeanor, some girl will think: “Who was that sales associate? Maybe I should go back and ask him to the food court on his break? He looked hungry.”

True, I am hungry (probably for pizza). False, the love connection hasn’t happened — alas.

One time a freckle-faced fashionista walked in sipping a chai latte. Well, that happens a lot actually, but this one was extra cute. Usually I help customers at my own leisure, but I approached her so fast I got an invite to the NFL combine. I helped her find a couple of pairs of jeans and a skirt, and decided to try starting a conversation.

“I see you have, um — tea there,” I stumbled. “Did you get it from the new place downstairs?”

Not the smoothest line, but definitely keeping it mall-centric. Turns out she got the tea from the town where I live. She teaches cheer leading there. She’s also best friends with a girl I’m friends with from high school. We were legitimately talking! What do you know? The ol’ where’d-you-get-the-tea- from?-trick works!

Later, I asked our mutual friend about this girl. Unfortunately, she has a boyfriend. I felt stupid for asking. I don’t know what I expected my friend to say. Perhaps something along the lines of: “Oh, yeah, she mentioned you! You were the one who processed her monetary transaction!”

I started to realize that my fleeting retail romances might just be shams. The smiles aren’t for me — they’re for the plaid blouses I’m folding and sizing. The glances aren’t at me, but our fabulous sale prices. I might as well be a mannequin. Working in a clothing store is like being a rock in a river of bustling humanity. Every connection made — guy or girl — is fleeting. Soon to move on to the next store.

Sorry, that’s getting a little morose. I’m far from miserable — it’s just an interesting thought.

My pebble-in-the-river status also allows me a unique perspective on romance in the retail world: Couple customers.

You can tell a lot about a couple by the way they shop together. Their body language. Their attitude. Sometimes it is almost painful to watch, seeing a couple argue over something as simple as a cardigan. I work in the fitting room on the floor with men’s clothing, so I get a lot of dudes getting annoyed with the clothes their girlfriends pick out for them. The lack of patience that can be shown from one shopping trip is unbelievable. The most natural couple I’ve seen in the store coincidentally is my two best friends; their body language speaks volumes of why they’re still together.

Everyone on The Clothing Store staff seems to be in good shape, romantically speaking. Some are married, some are dating. One girl is dating a guitarist from a crummy local band. My favorite manager claims she loves her boyfriend, but she relentlessly flirts with the former employee who showed up drunk to the company party.

Sunday won’t be that bad though. I have a date with a 10 percent discount at the mall’s pizza joint. John Lennon once sang: “Happiness is a warm ‘za.”

Or something like that — the store’s soundtrack is really getting to me.

by Two-Headed Boy