Someone Needs to Tell That Sales Lady She's Ridiculous

For the past week my occupation has put me in a situation forcing me to shop for twelve actors. Sounds fun, sounds easy- it's not. It's stressful. Channeling my inner Rachel Zoe, I headed out this morning for my final must haves. Structured jewel tone shirt, nylons, what have you. Even scored a BCBG tie for $12. Savvy and economical. 

As I began to feel the high of accomplishment, I was started back into some freaky retail world. The woman at Express. The woman paid by Express to sell me clothing. Unfortunately I am not privy to scare tactic selling- and this saleswoman resembled a character from "Twin Peaks." Makeup plastered to her face, a sickening perma-grin revealing the slight stain of a couple Merlots the night before, and the creepy voice of a serial killer acting nice before she slices and dices me. She talked to me as if I was a 4 year-old, and stared at me like she was in a trance. I'm not sure if this is part of the training manual- attempting to sell by hypnosis-but it was not working. Rather than asking her advice on the size 6 longs I bought for my model, I wanted to run and seek shelter at the nearest Gymboree in hopes of finding a mother's comforting hug. 

This lady was absolutely ridiculous- and somebody needs to tell her.