I don’t like to bring anybody’s business down, but as we know, blogging and the written word are indelible. You can’t take it back. Even if you take down the piece you wrote, someone has it screenshot and forwarded to their entire list of contacts. So, I decided to keep this store anonymous, but my irritation every time I shop here needed a voice, so that it might become better for fellow shoppers. The “potties” are to make shopping life safer and less treacherous where we spend our precious dollars.
New Jersey is the mall capital of the world, and traffic capital on any road that houses a mall. Let’s say that’s most of our highways. So, I think staff in a major department store should be used to the hustle and bustle of demanding clientele on any given day of the week. We do get a Bergen County reprieve on Sunday thanks to our beloved Blue Laws.
But Rose, out of desperation for her true love, finds her way back onto the sinking ship, risking her life, only to make out with Jack in the main vestibule of the ship, as it faded away into the icy cold waters of the Atlantic whild other passengers were whizzing about, grasping at a chance to live.
This is what it is like to find a salesperson and purchase a pair of shoes in a local major department store’s shoe department. (Nameless). First you are in a literal sea of shoes, with other shoppers looking for the perfect pair. Then, the search for the captain, or salesperson, with some answers begins. If you find one who isn’t overwrought, breathing normally and not carrying a tower of shoes as high as Dolly Parton’s hair, you may have a chance at “sole survival.” This takes much time and skill, and if you are seated, or sitting in steerage, nobody will help you.
Tripping over boxes of a either a non survivor or a survivor’s unwanted footwear is a major hazard, and sitting on a stiletto or block heel because you didn’t see it amidst the other crap on your seat is also possible.
As Rose so passionately took Jack’s face and planted one on his lips, once you find a sales person who is available to find your size and width, without any remorse, you may want to make out with them too, because at last, a chance for survival, possibly emerging from the stock room with your stilettos in another half an hour has come to fruition. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ASK FOR MORE THAN THREE PAIRS OF SHOES at a time. Your lifeline will be cut short, and you may perish amongst the unwanted flats and ugly sneakers.
Once you have the shoes in hand, it is now time to get on your life boat and check out. Imagine the cashier is the life boat being lowered to safety, and the check out line, the sinking ship. Each passenger, clinging to their most beloved belongings, a child, a spouse, or in this case a pair of gladiators or a Steve Madden wedge are now vying for position to pay. There is no line. Just a few deckhands telling you to now come forth and claim your salvation as you wait behind droves of other shoppers claiming their 20% off and paying, or getting on the lifeboat and floating away. Once you have your items in a bag, dry throat, car keys in hand, you have earned your safety, your car, your refuge, because the desire to go back on board, and shop in any department has diminished and sunk away into iceberg-like nothingness.
The shoes here have become more “WENDY’s EVENING WEAR” commercial-ish, and certainly not worth the Titanic similarities just to buy shoes. Maybe take a tip from another luxury shopping oasis whose staff is awaiting you like the former staff for Louis XIV at Versailles … and yes, they do sell normal shoes as well, with the same kind of service you find in the foo-foo section.
Sorry, local department store, your on the floor service has completely bombed over the years, but the shoe department takes the cake here. Not a life vest in sight..it’s every foot for themselves.