Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The bitch and the bell

I popped to Westfield last night for a spot of post-work shopping, ostensibly of the Christmas variety, but we all know I always have a hidden agenda geared towards treating myself to anything that takes my fancy so expectations for finding any presents for anyone but me were running spectacularly low. Surprisingly, however, I did actually find a something in one particular shop that I thought a certain person would like, so I decided to buy it. And this, in turn, led to a bit of an awkward situation.

Now, you know I have no qualms about naming and shaming any shops that I think disrec' me, but in this instance I'm going to have to keep schtum, if only because the certain person in question does have a habit of coming here as a result of Googling his beloved offspring - which quite frankly sounds like the sort of alarming statement that would usually have the authorities leaping into action.

So anyway, with item in hand I walked up to the counter, where there are a number of tills arranged side by side, each of which had a shiny bell in front of it that you could tap to call for service if all the staff were outside having a cheeky fag or boffing in the stockroom. In this instance, though, there was a member of staff at the till.

"Ooo, shiny bell!" I said (no, really, I actually did) as I walked towards her. "Can I ring it?"

She gave me a look of absolute disdain.

"No you cannot," she replied.

I chuckled, assuming she was being faux serious, and raised my hand to give it a jaunty tap. The assistant looked at me again, reached forward, and pulled the bell away.

"I said no."

I totally did the sad face bottom lip quiver to no avail, and completed my transaction without contributing any of my traditional flirtatious banter (her loss). Never one to give up without a fight, though, as she handed me my bag, I reached out once again to tap the bell.

"NO!" she said, yanking the shiny thing away from me. I glared at her, and walked out.

But mark my words: at some point I'll be back, and using all my ninja training I'll get to that counter and ring that bloody bell if it goddamn kills me (or security cart me out like a common criminal in a painful armlock).

I like a challenge.


Inexplicable DeVice said...

You young scamp!

It does beg the question of why they have a bell if one isn't allowed to ring it, though.

Yay! First!

Tim said...


Princess said...

It is the season to be Jolly. Right?
Next time ring it constantly I say... wether she is there or not.
What a contolling cow...

Tim said...

What a great idea - I'm just going to slam it until her ears bleed.

Heck, I might even buy my own!

CyberPete said...

Oh my god! RUDE! I thought the customer was always right.

You should have said something like "what will happen, will it explode" or something Star Trekkie that she totally wouldn't get. Or just shame her like a puppy who just shat on the queens new oriental rug.

Tim said...

What - make her drag her bum around on the carpet? I'm not quite sure what that would achieve - BUT OK!

Tara said...

Yes, her loss indeed. To be fair, I'm guessing she's heard that bell too many times during the day. But c'mon, have a heart! A shiny bell is way too tempting.

There's a "ring bell for service" bell at the store nearby, but sadly I don't need that particular department enough to have to ding it. Dang it!

Good luck with the bell. I hope you breach security while snuffy bell girl is there to see it...and hear it!