Unsolicited sales pitching to moms with toddlers

Ivan and I went to Columbia Mall today. We were in the area (a dentist visit), it was too hot and humid to play outside and, besides, I've been on a quest for a new eye cream.

(After several years of not following what I preach, that is investing in a good eye cream before it gets too late--it's possible it's already gotten a bit late--I decided it's time to do department store research, pick up a few eye cream samples and try to get the upper hand against those emerging wrinkles and crow feet.)

Ivan patiently stood by me as I negotiated samples with a Clinique sales lady at Macy's. Then he explored a fountain before I dragged him away. Then we spotted a crowd of toddlers and moms listening to a duo singing and dancing for kids. Ivan refused to join in, clinging to me instead, insisting that I "nosi, nosi." So we walked away to the nearby Origin store. He patiently stood by as I explored the store, observing the toddler crowd outside.

But then he was done. My grace period was running out, and I still wasn't done with my search.

So we continued walking through the mall a bit. Walking with him is like walking Mariposa. One has to walk relatively fast and steady without stopping; otherwise, if he senses ambivalence, it's gawk at this, get distracted by that or, my favorite, the whiny "nosi, nosi." And carrying him is getting to be a bit hard.

Distractions at a mall are plenty, especially in the form of kiosks where non-store entities peddle their wares.

"Hi mam, what do you use to style your hair," one peddler hollered at me, trying to interupt my determined stride. "Do you have 15 seconds...."

"Sorry, no," I answered pointing to Ivan, plugging ahead without pausing.

I really wanted to confront the guy:

"What do you think I use on my hair? Does my day-old unwashed and unbrushed ponytail with the still visible bedhead parting and 6 month-old roots peppered with gray look that good?"

"And what makes you think that a woman with a toddler, who's about to have a meltdown, really has 15 seconds to spare on your sales pitch?"

"Am I really the best sucker you can pick out from the crowd who you think would give you undivided 15 seconds of attention to listen to your sales pitch, buy the product and really care two days later what my hair looks like?"

I didn't say any of this. But this has been brewing in me for some time now.

Last year, I got suckered into it. I was with my mom and Ivan, who, luckily, was in the stroller. We had been at Montgomery Mall for a while (which really meant we went to two stores), when he started to lose it. But we still hadn't accomplished our intended goal, which was to buy Ivan shoes.

We were almost at Strideride. It was a spitting distance away, when a nice young man peddling some nail buffing/hand cream "secret" stuff spied us from his kiosk. Since it was Christmas time, our guard was down and we got lured in. But the 15-second pitch turned into a good 10-15 minute monologue during which he buffed several of our nails (and neither I nor my mother really care for manicures or like others handling our hands. Too sensitive. Pedicures are another story.) Meanwhile, Ivan started bawling, screaming, throwing a fit in his stroller.

But the young sales guy was apparently oblivious to the screaming toddler and couldn't take a hint that it was time for us to leave. Eventually, we wrestled ourselves from his pitch grip and strolled the tempter tantrumy Ivan into Strideride, where measuring his feet and buying shoes was impossible at that point.

I was livid. I wanted to go back out and yell at the guy, "shouldn't they teach you not to stop mothers with young children. These mothers usually have specific goals to accomplish in a short period of time before the kid melts. So you're wasting your time and their time."

Well, at least he was wasting my time. I don't know, maybe stay at home moms, who, I imagine, have more time to peruse the malls and do other leisurely things are good targets, but not me.

And it's not only young sales guys who are oblivious. Girls are no better.

Like the time I was stopped in Silver Spring by a Greenepeace activist with Ivan in the stroller. "No, I don't have a minute for the environment. Yes, I already recycle. And no, sorry, I'm not giving up my diaposable huggies," I blurted out at her without slowing down. Yet, she persisted and persisted in talking. I just had to ignore her and walk away.