SHOP ASS: A NEOLOGISM

Do you remember the 90’s when shopping in Milan was as much fun as flunking a school exam? Every time you entered a store you had a shop assistant (SHOP ASS for short) breathing down your neck and if you dared to touch anything at all you would get the same kind of treatment as when you finally dared to confront the school bully and got a beating instead.
The store - a shopping haven of colours and textures just begging to be touched and mishandled, so near and yet so far.... And as you choose to break the rules and move your arm in the direction of temptation, the enticing items are suddenly immersed in darkness as a large figure looms over you from behind and the music is drowned out by the intimidating tone of the shop ass as she spits venom:
“DON”T touch that! If you want to see it, POINT to the one you want and I will SHOW it to you!” Sound familiar?
Sometimes my hair would stand on end and my heart rate would suddenly increase. I mean shopping should be an exciting experience, your heart should race because you have bought something that you have touched and smelled and touched again, and the only words you should hear is ‘how may I help you spend your money?”
Thank goodness we have come a long way since then, but it can still be trying at the best of times. Even in shops like Zara in Via Torino, the employees who work in the dressing rooms behave like little prima donnas. I feel like slapping them sometimes. They never smile, always look pissed off and act as if they are doing you a favour, which means that they feel they can boss you about with “ you can go!, hold on!, wait! do not pass go! do not collect 200 pounds! you know what I mean? It’s worse than trying to get into Armani Prive’ on a bad hair day!
Shoe shops are the worst. Especially if you venture toward the shoe display window. You want to instantly piss off a shop ass? That’s the place to be. Listen for the shriek of surprise as you venture to lift your arm in that direction. And as you dare to lift the merchandise from its allocated spot, which involved hours of shop ass strategic planning, 9 times out of 10 you will hear “No madam, you cannot touch!’. I CANNOT touch??
Recently I was out with a client shopping and we entered a boutique in Via Manzoni. The moment we stepped into the shop we were assailed by a pierced-lipped-school-mistress-type shop ass who was clearly bothered by our presence. We were looking at scarves, and dare I mention it, we were TOUCHING the merchandise. It was like returning to the 90’s all over again -the squeal of surprise, the heavy and impatient plod of the shoes as the shop ass came toward us and the venom. But this time things were different. My hair didn’t stand on end nor did my heart rate increase. I asked another shop assistant (they deserve the word written in full when they are lovely!) to help my client while I took the shop ass aside, put my arm around her shoulders and mentioned that the next time I saw the CEO of the brand I would say hi to him on her behalf.....
And the worst experience of all, so far? In Brera. It had recently opened and I was curious to see its collections. I tried on quite a few garments but none of them really fit. I thanked the lady and said I would be back soon to see future collections for my clients to which she replied “ Don’t bother, you’ve wasted my time and bought nothing!” I looked at her in disbelief. I informed her that I was a journalist and that she would be hearing from me. She actually followed me out of the store and shouting hysterically “ You are nothing but a ‘pezzente’ (trash), and a ‘morte di fame!’ (as poor as a beggar). I was dumb-founded! Thank goodness I was wearing my Gucci coat and Prada handbag that day!

I mean who are these women? They are obviously in dire need of therapy or at the very least SEX and more SEX. Shopping is meant to be fun and all we get is a prima donna attitude from many repressed and frustrated women. It must be laborious waiting on people day in and day out but honestly I can think of much worse jobs. Maybe they should pack in their job and start cleaning toilets in one of the Autogrills on the motorway. Maybe this will give them a different perspective on life and make them realise that the true art of being a shop assistant lies in making a client feel beautiful and special when they spend money at their store.