I just spent more than an hour helping a woman choose her glasses. I don't mind, most people take somewhere between 30 minutes and an hour to choose- but most people taking that long to chose don't make you follow them around like a lost puppy, they let you pootle off and do other things and grab you to help them make a decision.
Already, our most enthusiastic and effective frame selector has been with her an hour, and given up.
You have to picture me, clutching on to about ten pairs of glasses she's 'not sure of', with my customer service smile on. You know the one.
By this point she's decided she really likes about six pairs, and suddenly she doesn't like them any more. At least six times I've thought she's finished, and then it's suddenly 'I don't like them any more.' She's made certain to mention she's 'head of a department' dealing with young offenders, (and I thought , yeah, do you knock them out with your perfume? Jeez.) And how our designer range isn't 'top range' and the other store has Chanel, but she doesn't want to go there, and she wants something that's wacky, but it can't have nose pads, because they get tangled in her hair and it HAS to be plastic, and she's not sure, and not sure, and not sure, AND NOT SURE.
She makes ME try on two pairs of the ones she likes, to see if 'I'd look at you and think I like your glasses', despite the thing I'm small, skinny, pale and redhaired, and she is tall, large, tanned and a brunette, and we have completely different face shapes.
All the way through it's
'Oooh, I HATE choosing glasses, it;s horrible, it;s why I ut this off... does this have more bling, does this come in another colour, this isn't wide enough, this is too harsh, this isn't dramatic enough, Naaah, Naaah, naaah, NYAAAH NYAAAH NYAAAH!'
Just SHUT UP AND CHOOSE SOME F+CKING FRAMES.
She refuses to let me see her prescription, despite the fact I explain to her that it's easier to recommend glasses with a prescription handy. (it is, the prescription lets us know if, for example, they have a really bad - prescription that will look dreadful in a huge, rimless frame) but no, no prescription for me!
She finally (it is now 5:10, I go home in 20 minutes) decides on a pair (that admittedly are quite nice) enthuses about them for ages, and I palm her off on a dispenser.
Who, 15 minutes later ushers her out of the door.
'That woman is a nutcase' he says, exhausted. All I can do is nod.
Already, our most enthusiastic and effective frame selector has been with her an hour, and given up.
You have to picture me, clutching on to about ten pairs of glasses she's 'not sure of', with my customer service smile on. You know the one.
By this point she's decided she really likes about six pairs, and suddenly she doesn't like them any more. At least six times I've thought she's finished, and then it's suddenly 'I don't like them any more.' She's made certain to mention she's 'head of a department' dealing with young offenders, (and I thought , yeah, do you knock them out with your perfume? Jeez.) And how our designer range isn't 'top range' and the other store has Chanel, but she doesn't want to go there, and she wants something that's wacky, but it can't have nose pads, because they get tangled in her hair and it HAS to be plastic, and she's not sure, and not sure, and not sure, AND NOT SURE.
She makes ME try on two pairs of the ones she likes, to see if 'I'd look at you and think I like your glasses', despite the thing I'm small, skinny, pale and redhaired, and she is tall, large, tanned and a brunette, and we have completely different face shapes.
All the way through it's
'Oooh, I HATE choosing glasses, it;s horrible, it;s why I ut this off... does this have more bling, does this come in another colour, this isn't wide enough, this is too harsh, this isn't dramatic enough, Naaah, Naaah, naaah, NYAAAH NYAAAH NYAAAH!'
Just SHUT UP AND CHOOSE SOME F+CKING FRAMES.
She refuses to let me see her prescription, despite the fact I explain to her that it's easier to recommend glasses with a prescription handy. (it is, the prescription lets us know if, for example, they have a really bad - prescription that will look dreadful in a huge, rimless frame) but no, no prescription for me!
She finally (it is now 5:10, I go home in 20 minutes) decides on a pair (that admittedly are quite nice) enthuses about them for ages, and I palm her off on a dispenser.
Who, 15 minutes later ushers her out of the door.
'That woman is a nutcase' he says, exhausted. All I can do is nod.
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