Today’s rant: Bath and Body Works gargantuan franchise that sells gallons of products to make you smell beautiful. I don’t know why I even go in there but today is the last time. First of all, they are super aggressive ride-your-ass hard sell: *on bath products.* I mean, come on. I remember the first time I went to one it was in Santa Barbara and the gal comes over and shoves a basket in my hands, like I’m going to buy a basket-load of bath products. I put it down on the display.
All I want is some bath gel that makes me smell good all day. Last time I bought my bath stuff at one those kiosks at the mall in Vancouver where they were trying to sell me some contraption that would make my nails magically pretty. I garden, cook, wash dishes, type. These are working hands, not pretty hands. Anyway, the bath gel was supposed to be peach smell and it was nothing smell. It was $14 worth of pink stuff that lathered.
So today I’m browsing the shelves, trying to find something that sounds good. And the gals are offering to help me about every 30 seconds, because apparently it takes a lot of assistance to find a smell that you like. They have all these goofy specials like: buy a gallon jug of oregano banana spice bath gel and you can get a free anise papaya mist hand creme or cardamom cucumber breeze body spray. And all the stuff smells like Jello.
I found a lavender palmfrond bath thing that I liked and when I paid the surly teenager asked for my phone number.
Me: What do you need my phone number for?
Her: So we can send you coupons and things
Me: With my phone number?
Her: They look you up on the Internet.”
As if.
