My Personal Space

What  you are about to read is a true story.  No names have been changed to protect the innocent (or the stupid).  Here is my story. 

It was lunch time on a weekday, and I needed to go to the mall on my lunch hour to meet my mother and make a gift purchase.  So, when you break it down, there’s really only about 30 real minutes to my actual lunch “hour.”  I had to go to the mall (btw – I absolutely LOATHE the mall on normal occasions) to purchase something @ the sports store there.  In general, the plan was to be the following: Meet my mother momentarily, briskly walk thru the mall to the previously aforementioned sports store, walk in, find the needed product, purchase said product, walk briskly out of the mall, get in my car, return to work and finish out the day.  Um, yeah….this plan – did not come to fruition. 

The actual “walk in, find the needed product, purchase said product” portion did take place.  It was the “walk briskly out of the mall” where I was accosted by a maller.  Ya know, the people that work in one of those middle kiosk booths – it’s a store on 4 wheels?  Anyways, this “maller” woman, named Daniel – yes, a woman named Daniel, yet she pronounces it DANIELLE, yet still spells it Daniel, literally jumps out right in front of me, grabs my head and starts petting my hair.  Seriously?  This chick just grabbed my head??  She had a rather heavy accent that I’m still unable to place, perhaps Himalayan? I don’t know, but in my mind she speaks with a Himalayan accent (mind you, I have no clue if that’s even possible – but it is now) – anyways, she starts ranting and raving about my hair.  Now, I like my hair – I tend to get compliments on my hair on occasion, but no one, and I truly mean NO ONE has ever just reached out, grabbed my head and started touching my hair.  You may or may not know this about me, so I’ll give you a little hint:  I really don’t care for random strangers tackling me and touching my hair.  So, she starts babbling about how amazing my hair is and how gorgeous the color is and I’m just waiting for her to let go of my hair before I pummel her, because, as we all know in regards to “girl fights” – wherever the hair goes, the body will follow {I learned that on The Jerry Springer Show and that’s a free nugget of knowledge for you to file away in your brain pattern to use for a later day if necessary.  You’re welcome, now let’s continue….} 

Okay, so, she finally lets go of my hair, yet she’s still petting it and raving about how long and straight my hair is.  She continues to speak and begins curling my hair with a “new” type of curling iron.  First of all, I’m not sure you heard me on that last statement – allow me to repeat myself….SHE BEGINS CURLING MY HAIR.  My hair.  Not her hair.  My hair.  Sweet Baby Jesus save this woman because she’s going down – and now I’m afraid to deck her because she’s holding my hair and it’s curled around a 400 degree metal rod and it could burn my hair off or burn me.  So, I slowly begin to tilt my head and THEN she asks me, “Oh sweetie, did you want me to curl your hair?” 

Really?  Now??  Wow….so, she’s already curled about 3 sections of my hair – and if I’m ever brought in for questioning or sent to trial in regards to this event, I will lie on the stand, but it was a really cool curling iron, not for $350 dollars, but still – so she starts her spiel (in her Himalayan accent) about how amazing this iron is and it has 4 detachable rods and each one creates a different type of curl and this one is for this and that one is for that and the other one can cure Mesothelioma….blah blah blah….whatever – the point at hand is that you freakin’ curled my hair.  I curl my hair – I have long, straight hair and when I curl it, it stays curly for about 40 minutes and then it’s straight again (damn Florida humidity) – anyways, she curls the crap outta my hair in 3 sections and I realize, my hair is NOT going to be straight again until later today when I wash it, because Daniel (I still can NOT get over HER name) had to be a PITA (Pain In The Ass) and snatch my hair.  Okay, long story longer, she continues to try and sell me on this product, even though I’ve made it PERFECTLY clear that I have no interest in the product whatsoever.  She even offers me….wait for it….wait….for….it….she even offers me a “special price – just for today only” – I know, I really do watch too many infomercials, so, she tells me she’ll GIVE it to me for $250 dollars, but only for today.  Wow!  GIVE it to me?  How nice….Now, the whole time she’s blabbering about how she’s going to GIVE me this product (which also includes 5 appointment times when I can come and have one of the “mallers” do my hair whenever I want, however I want, no matter what – WOW – how exciting! ***Note the sarcasm***) for $250 dollars, I’ve been brushing the curls out of my hair with my fingers trying to get rid of them because now I look like the crazy homeless lady who sits/sleeps/pees outside the Stop N’ Go Quick Mart with her cat singing to everyone who walks by, and she asks me why I’m not interested in the curling iron.  Wait….wait….did she just ask me WHY I’m not interested in the curling iron?  Oh Great Oden’s Raven, this is perfect – here’s my chance….I stop brushing my hair and look her dead in the eye and say, “Well DANIEL – I really don’t like this.”  She then retorted with a small laugh, started touching my hair again and then said, “No – really – why don’t you like the curling iron?” 

She just didn’t get it.  So, I lovingly pushed her hand away and said, “Do me a favor….make my hair straight again, I’ll walk away and you can talk to somebody else.”  She started laughing again – I think maybe her Himalayan sense of humor wasn’t up to par, so, she picked up another product and started attempting to fix my hair – all the while still jabbering about the damn curling iron and NOW she’s going to GIVE it to me for $200 dollars, oh and she’ll throw in an additional appointment, making the grand total of “6” appointments for me to get my hair done by random “mallers” – I explained, again….that I was not interested – and then she tells me I can make payments on it.  Are you kidding me?  Are we still having this conversation??  Am I on glue???  Make payments????  Not so much.  She continues to straighten my hair, which is not becoming straight again, and then says, “Well, it’s ONLY $200 dollars” – Only?  Only $200 dollars??  So, I tell her, “Well, if it’s ONLY $200 dollars, then you can pay for it and give it to me.  I mean, if it’s ONLY $200 dollars, it shouldn’t be a problem for you right?” – I explained $200 dollars was my Homeowners Association Payment, gas in my car, my electric bill, or my groceries – but since it was ONLY $200 dollars, she could pay for it, just give me the product and I’d be on my way.  Yeah – she didn’t like that too much.  She finished “fixing” my hair, actually gave me her company card with her number and hours on it (Praise Be – Because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep soundly without that information on-hand) and fake-smiled at me as I turned to walk away.  And that was it.  I was safe.  I was walking away….and then I was blindsided by a “background maller” (who honestly was dressed like a pirate) asking me to stop so he/she (sadly I couldn’t tell) could talk to me about some type of cleaning detergent….I promptly veered left, avoiding the peg-legged pirate, not even making eye contact and continued on in my search for the exit sign.  Did I mention that I loathe the mall?  True Story.  Thank You For Your Time.