Me: “Hello – is there anything I can help you with?”
You: “Why, yes, yes there is. I’m looking for something to wear.”
Me: “Okay! Are you looking for anything in particular?”
You: “No, no, nothing in particular. Just something nice, a top maybe.”
Oh, Modest Shopper. What hopeful joy cautiously raises its head in my heart when we arrive at this stage of our conversation. Are you truly that favourite customer of mine, the “Style Me!”? The one who trusts in the wise, concerned judgement my status as shop assistant grants to me by nature like grace to a gazelle or speed to a cheetah, and genuinely just wants something nice? In my naive excitement, I weigh you up visually, taking into account age, size, hair colour, skin tone, current style of dress, etc. With a “hmmm”, I lead you over to just the right rack, and triumphantly produce the perfect top. It suits you, it fits you, it was decreed by the fates as the garment Meant For You.
Me: “How about this?”
You (giving me and the garment an annoyed, slightly offended look): “No! That’s got short sleeves!”
Oh, Modest Shopper. I’m sorry. Of course I should have known that “something nice” wouldn’t have short sleeves. Allow me to try again. Let us proceed to the next rack, where the second best garment available for you in the entire world is waiting to be united with its prospective wearer. Not a short sleeve in sight; this baby knows long sleeves are the way to go.
Me: “Maybe you’d prefer this.”
You (with another offended, now slightly puzzled at my density, look): “No, no – that one’s red!”
Of course, of course, Modest Shopper. You wouldn’t want anything red. Allow me to try again.
...
Some time later, you turn to me in exasperation. “You haven’t got much selection, have you?”, you demand of me, condescendingly.
Well, no. I’m afraid our selection of long-sleeved (three-quarter sleeves are right out too, of course), non-red, non-blue, non-black, buttoned-up, V-necked, at least 50% cotton, no frilled cuffs, in your preferred price range, tops, available in your exact size, is a bit meager at the moment. Please accept my sincere apologies.
Modest Shopper, do you do this for modesty’s sake? Do you feel rude indicating that you are actually looking for something particular? Or is it that your desires are unconscious? Are you unaware of your taste in clothes, able only to express it when faced with a garment on which you must pass judgement? Or is this simply your worldview, that the word “nice”, when applied to the word “top”, would surely never contain a garment that was short- or three-quarter-sleeved, red, blue, black, non-buttoned-up, non-V-necked, not at least 50% cotton, had frilled cuffs, or was not in your preferred price range? Or perhaps you genuinely hold shop assistants in the same awe that we receive from young children – we have the Power of the Store; surely mind-reading is a small feat for such power-wielding demigods? Surely I must sense your taste in clothes when you walk in the door.
Please, Modest Shopper. You want something. Maybe I have it, maybe I don’t. But neither of us will know until you tell me what it is you want. There are a lot of Modest Shoppers out there for some reason – make my job easier and your shopping quicker by not being one of them.
