Even before I moved here, I avoided cheery salespeople. It was nothing personal–I’m sure they would be very helpful–it’s just that I tend to think of shopping as sort of a hit-or-miss proposition. If there’s something that I decide that I really, really want but does not appear to be available in my size/color/whatever, I will ask, but I like to get to that point (or not) on my own. If I begin by sidling up to a salesperson and rattling on about what sort of thing I’m looking for, and for what occasion, and for whom, and with what odd specifications, they’re going to help, and they’re going to talk, and they’re going to be so nice and committed to the project that I will likely wind up feeling rushed into buying something, even if the exact thing that I was looking for was never in that store to begin with.
So I duck behind racks and shelves, and avoid eye contact at all costs. Is that so wrong?
It’s impossible here, is the problem.
For one thing, we read somewhere that stores are considered an extension of private property in France. Would you just walk into someone’s house without acknowledging them? Okay; maybe you would, but most of us would not, and so the only way to be polite here is to say hello and goodbye each and every time you enter and leave a store. So right off the bat, I’ve been spotted.
Then there’s the thing that happens if anyone sees you looking at a specific piece of merchandise (as opposed to, say, staring steadfastly at the ceiling). Someone will appear, suddenly and silently, at your elbow and ask, “Can I inform you?” This standard question replaces the American “Can I help you?” which the French prefer to save for when you eventually look like you actually need help.
This, of course, is where I really start to founder. How can I plausibly claim that I don’t even need information? Sure, I’m just browsing, but did hearing more about the stock ever hurt anyone?
So I hesitate.
And they say, “Oh! You speak English?”
And I seethe, because that is so not the point right now.
I’m beginning to get into it, though. The thing is, just as you would suspect from people who offer you information as a preliminary step to offering you help, they are extremely helpful if you let them be. I bought my rehearsal dress yesterday from a woman who appeared outside my fitting room (which is the absolute earliest point at which I would want help anyway), and then came back to offer alternatives, high heels, and opinions (once I asked) no less than eleven times. She was committed to the project, and it turned out to be vital when I ended up stuck between two sizes.
I gave her the date of the event and the details of my current fitness plan, and she had me try both dresses on again. Finally she nodded decisively. “There are two things we can do. You can buy the bigger one and I will take it in here, here, and here,” she said, pointing. “Or you can buy the smaller one and lose about one kilo, mainly from here.”
Excuse me now, please. I have to go do some work on my derrière.