15.) A late 20s guy walked in one day and said he needed a shirt and tie to wear with his black (!!!) suit for a wedding this weekend. He said his girlfriend told him he looks good in red because--and this is where it got stupid--he's a "winter" (or was he a "summer" . . . ?)
Anyways . . . for the purpose of recounting this tale, let's just say he was a "winter" . . .
. . . so, he said his girlfriend told him to get a red shirt and red tie because that colour would look good on him.
Personally, I never understood this thing about people being a winter or a summer . . . it's all horsehit as far as I'm concerned; it's all crap designed to sell more makeup to women, I think.
So, buddy said to me, "Yeah, she told me red is a good colour for me because she says I'm a winter."
Good for you, buddy.
"Don't you agree it'd look good on me?" he asked me.
What the hell was he asking me this for? It was quite obvious he'd be buying that colour no matter what I'd say.
I said to him very politely, "Personally, sir, I never understood all this stuff about people being a winter or a summer or what have you. I buy whatever colours I like simply because I know what I like but I don't mind listening to, and taking into consideration, the advice and suggestions of friends and acquaintances but, when all is said and done, I am the one who's wearing it and therefore it should be my decision."
That was a hint for buddy.
He looked at me, puzzled. "You don't know about winters and summers?"
"No, not really."
"Well, I don't think you should be working in fashion then. How can you help your customers if you don't know that?"
"I do just fine, sir. I've been doing this long enough to know my customers like what I do for them in matters of dress and I do, if I may say, dress well enough not to solicit strange looks from people."
He was not convinced. "Well, you really should read up on this stuff. It would be of benefit to you."
Whatever, buddy.
"Will you be going with this red shirt and red tie, sir?"
"Do you think they would look good on me?"
"Do you really need to ask me that? Your girlfriend told you what looks good on you. Isn't that enough?"
"Well, what would you pick for me instead?"
I showed him some options, mostly blues and greys.
"Oh. I don't like those at all. I don't think they would look good on me."
"I think you should buy what you like."
"Well, isn't your job to advise customers what would look good on them?"
"You told me I don't know what I'm doing. Why would I want to contradict myself with someone who's already told you what would look good on you and who's already told you what to buy?"
Silence.
"Will you be going with this red shirt and red tie, sir?"
I keyed in the sale and he left.
A few days later (the morning of the wedding), buddy came walking into the store carrying the bag with his red shirt and red tie in it.
"Hello," I greeted him.
"Um, I took the shirt and tie home and tried them on and my girlfriend told me the colour doesn't look good on me."
THERE IS A GOD.
"Oh, really?" I said, trying to sound surprised. I did my best to hide my glee.
"Yeah. She said it doesnt' look good on me at all."
"Did she say what colour WOULD look good on you?"
No answer.
"Could you help me pick out something? I need to be at the wedding in two hours."
I showed him the same light blue shirt and black/grey/blue paisley tie from last time.
"I like those. Okay. I'll take those."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
I exchanged the shirt and tie for him and he left.
He didn't come back the next day to say the shirt and tie didn't look good on him.
16.) A mid 40s guy came into the store. He told me he just came from Sears and said he wanted--and I quote--"a button-down shirt."
"I'm sorry, sir. We don't have any button-down collars right now."
"What do you mean?"
"We don't have any button-down collar shirts at the moment."
"No, no. I need a button shirt."
"What do you mean, a 'button shirt'? Do you mean a shirt with a button-down collar?"
"I mean I need a button shirt!"
"We don't have any button-down collars right now."
Buddy was getting agitated at this point.
"LOOK, I JUST NEED A BUTTON SHIRT! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS? THE PEOPLE AT SEARS KNOW WHAT A BUTTON SHIRT IS! THEY HAVE BUTTON SHIRTS THERE! WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT A BUTTON SHIRT IS?!"
"All shirts have buttons, sir. Do you mean you just want a shirt that has buttons down the front of it as compared to a shirt that doesn't have buttons going down the front, or do you mean you want a shirt that has buttons on the collar points?"
"JESUS CHRIST! I JUST WANT A FUCKING BUTTON SHIRT! FUCK THIS! JESUS! I'M GOING BACK TO SEARS! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE! JESUS!"
Stupid moron.
17.) I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE COME IN AND PRETEND THEY WANT TO BUY A SUIT OR A SHIRT AND ASK US TO MEASURE THEM WHEN IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS TO ALL OF US THAT THEY JUST WANT TO BE MEASURED BY COMPETENT AND KNOWLEDGEABLE STAFF BECAUSE THE DISCOUNT STORE THEY JUST CAME FROM DOESN'T HAVE SALES STAFF ON THE FLOOR AND, THEREFORE, NO ONE TO MEASURE THEM AND THEN THEY JUST LEAVE AND GO BACK TO THAT STORE TO BUY BECAUSE THEY NOW KNOW WHAT SIZE THEY WEAR.
It's funny how people complain about the lack of customer service these days and how they say they don't want to shop at a store that doesn't have good customers service. And, so, what do they do? They come into OUR store because they know WE are specialists in menswear and they asked us to measure them and then they leave and go buy at a store that doesn't have helpful and knowledgeable sales staff. So why do they go back to that store to buy? IT'S BECAUSE THAT STORE HAS LOWER PRICES.
18.) A woman in her early 50s came in with her adult son (about mid or late 20s) and asked me if I could tie her son's tie for him.
It was she who did the speaking, not her son.
I said yes, I'd be happy to tie the tie for her son.
She took the tie out from the plastic grocery bag (here we go again!) and I looked at the tie in disbelief.
It was a CHILD'S tie.
It was a tie meant for a SMALL BOY about eight years old or younger.
How could I tell? The tie was about three-quarters of an inch wide (if that!) and was about 20 inches long. It may even have been shorter than 20 inches.
I told her, "This is a child's tie."
"Oh, yes. I know. It's my son's" She indicated the grown man standing beside her.
"This tie will not fit a grown man," I said. "This tie is meant for a little boy who's about eight years old or younger. It's too short for a grown man to wear; in fact, it would be FAR too short."
I thought that would have been the end of the matter.
Boy, was I wrong.
"We're going to a wedding and ties are so expensive," she said. "I don't see why my son needs to buy a new tie when he can just wear his old tie."
"Ma'am, this tie WILL NOT be long enough to fit a grown man who's as tall as your son; in fact, it cannot fit ANY grown man. This tie is for a young boy who'd be about four feet tall or shorter, if that. It is far too short for your son to wear. There'd be no point in me tying it because your son is too tall to wear it."
"Oh, I know but could you still tie it for him? He'd only be wearing it for one day."
Oh, Jesus.
It took me about five minutes to tie it BECAUSE IT WAS SO FUCKING SKINNY AND SHORT AND SHIT LIKE THAT AND WHEN I WAS FINALLY DONE, she told him to put it around his neck to make sure it would fit well.
Oh, Christ.
The knotted tie didn't fit around his head because, well, HIS HEAD WAS THAT OF A FUCKING GROWN MAN, NOT A FUCKING EIGHT YEAR OLD BOY.
"It doesn't fit around his neck," she said. "Could you re-tie it?"
The tie had been unknotted by the son in the process of him trying to put it over his head.
"Could you perhaps put it around his neck and tie it with it around his neck?" the mother asked.
"Ma'am, that will not work. This tie is FAR too short!"
"Oh, could you please try?" She was practically pleading with me at this point.
OH, CHRIST!
I spent the next five to seven minutes trying to tie it around his neck all to no avail.
Finally, I took the tie off of him.
I tied it with it wrapped around a mannequin's arm (the arm simulating the width of an eight year old boy's neck size) and slipped it off the arm when I was done. "This is the best I can do for you," I said. My tone of voice told them this was all I WOULD--AND WILL--do for them.
She was happy. "Oh, thank you, sir! My son will look so good at the wedding! Let's go home, son!"
They left.
Stupid morons.
