In Style Accessories. If you've ever been in this little store, you love it...cute jewelry and purses for really great prices. It just seems that every time I shop at the store in the NWA Mall, I feel like Im being punked. I have been in twice recently and the same exact scenario played out. It blew my mind.
First off, all 4 employee's of the store are roughly 16-18 year old girls. (I have no issue with this age group, Im just trying to paint a clear picture for you.) The music they play in this particular store is top 40 pop and pop-ish country. Again, I have no issue with this genre of music, it does not hinder my shopping ability in the least.
That being said, if when I am trying to shop, all four 16-18 year old girls are belting out Taylor Swifts' FIFTEEN at the top of their lungs, I am caught off guard, to say the least. It becomes especially awkward for me when I need to ask one of them a question regarding inventory. Do I interrupt the 'In-Style Karaoke Hour'? Do I wait until after the chorus, (because I notice that the chorus is all the tall blonde girl knows, so I maybe could sneak a question in then)? Do I wait until the song is completely over? Do I join in?! Please make it stop! I just want to know if you have any of the ruffle purses with green trim in the storeroom!
Eventually the song does end and by this time Ive already decided on what I want without help from the Singing Salesforce. (Picture a cuter version of the cast of Glee, without the singing ability)
I am standing at the cash register. I have my card in hand, I'm ready to checkout and run. The cashier asks if I found everything I needed and I just quickly nod, 'yes'. Im on a mission to get out of here ASAP. She takes my card and swipes it through the credit card machine. Of course it's the kind that takes a while. At this time, I hear Rascal Flatts' Here Comes Goodbye start streaming through the speakers... Sweet fancy Moses get me outta here! And then it happens... Not 2 feet away from me, while staring me right in the face as my debit card is processing, she beings to sing. NOT quietly to herself, not under her breath. Full-on singing as if I were Simon Cowell and she's singing for the Save... I want to end my life. In my head im shouting, 'STOP STARING AT ME WHILE YOU SING THIS! OMG! STOP! PLEASE STOP!
Just then my card receipt prints and she doesn't even stop singing to tell me to 'Come again' or to 'Have a nice day'... I run out of the store with flop sweat on my upper lip searching frantically for my husband and my youngest son who are leisurely enjoying a milkshake in the food court. My husband wants to know what took so long and why Im so sweaty...
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