I’ve written before about how goddamn annoying mall kiosk workers can be.  If anything, they’ve gotten worse since; I no longer fear the cell phone kiosk guys (yes, they’re almost always guys) nearly as much as the people selling random useless beauty products.  It’s infuriating dealing with them, because they don’t take no for an answer and they seem to be trying to guilt you into playing along.  Here’s a conversation I had with one today that’s pretty well average for how they work these days:

WORKER: Excuse me, sir, try some? (holding out useless product)

ME: No, thank you.

WORKER: You don’t want to try some?

ME: No.  Thank you.

WORKER: Can I just ask you one question?

ME: (walking past) No, thank you.

WORKER: Not just one question?!

ME: (walking away, hoping the anxiety subsides)

Two years ago, I had a Monday evening class that interacted poorly with my street’s alternate-side parking schedule.  I’d get back around 10:15pm and typically have to park at least a quarter-mile from my apartment as every legal space closer had been taken long before.  It’s not entirely surprising, given my neighborhood, that I came across a drug dealer one night, tying a bag to his bike, on my way back from my car.  That encounter went as follows:

DEALER: Hey, man, you fuck with powder?

ME: I’m sorry?

DEALER: You into cocaine?

ME: I, ah, no, thank you.

DEALER: (gets on bike) All right, man.  Have a good night.  (rides away)

Mall kiosk people: when I’m comparing you to a drug dealer I encountered one Monday evening, you should take a good, long look at what you’re doing.

When the dealer comes out better on politeness and on taking “no” for an answer, you should probably fucking throw out your sales techniques.