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Cologne

A few months back, I decided to get some new cologne. I actually don't wear much of the stuff, but since my walk is a little ghetto, I have to balance things out with a touch of class. Just a touch, mind you. I was in the car talking to a friend about how much it can cost, and she remarked that she didn't even remember that I wore cologne. In fact, I had to let her sniff my wrist in order to convince her that I did in fact use cologne. Even then, the verdict was, "it's there, but it's faint." In other words, things were more or less how they should have been.

However, I was reminded today that the process of acquiring that very same cologne was a bit of an adventure. This particular adventure was in one of the fancier stores in the mall. It started off fairly innocently, I went to the floor where most of the men's apparel was housed and I looked around. Not seeing any sort of signs, I started to walk around in hopes of either stumbling in to the right section by accident or finding a sign pointing me in the right direction.

When I saw a sign that said "Fine Fragrances," I figured that I'd stumbled in to the right section. Now, it's not like it said "Manly Fragrances" or "Eau de XY," so there was still a little bit of doubt in my mind. The person in charge of that little section was preoccupied talking to another guy, so I figured I'd try to figure it out myself in the meantime. Perusing the shelves, I didn't recognize very many of the brands (big surprise there). I did, however, notice that one of them was the same brand as a previous brand of cologne I had worn. Figuring that was a good sign, I was reassured that I was, indeed, in the right section.

I started browsing a little bit, but the now-free salesperson interrupted me:
Sales Guy: "Hey there, you all right?"
Me: "Yeah, think so"
Sales Guy: "You sure? You don't look it"
Me: "Well, I'm looking for a new cologne. I used to wear [Brand], figure I want something a little different" (points to shelf)
Sales Guy: "Well, you know you're in the women's section, right? I mean, no judgments"

(I'll give you a few moments to stop laughing. Just get it all out of your system, it'll be better for me that way.)

As it turns out, and I suddenly remembered, the particular brand that I had worn had both a guy and a girl fragrance. So, my sleuthing efforts had been for naught. After clearing all of that up, though, the guy was nice enough to walk me over to the correct section. There was already a sales lady in charge of that section, but she was also preoccupied. Regardless, the guy was helpful enough to recommend a few things and start handing me samples of them. By this point, the sales lady was free, so she joined in on the fun. She also recommended a few fragrances, so I now had two people handing me samples.

Me being me, I was pretty open about what I liked and what I didn't like. What's more, I spoke in my usual style, so the following exchange soon happened:
Me: "Ugh, not a fan of that one"
Sales Lady: "Too much?"
Me: "Smells like I'm trying to chloroform someone"

She erupted in to laughter at that point, and took a little while to compose herself. Anyhow, that meant it was mostly the original sales guy that helped me. He was a little flamboyant (I wouldn't have been surprised if he was gay), but he provided some pretty solid suggestions. He knew what he was talking about. All in all, I can't really complain. He could've been far more of a jerk, or far less helpful, but the guy treated me well. What's more, I did eventually end up going with something he'd suggested. So if he was getting paid on commission, he definitely earned it.

But wait, there's one final piece to this story. Remember how I said that I was reminded of this anecdote recently? That happened because I had jokingly sprayed a little bit of cologne on my sister, and she was running around the house complaining about the smell. I suddenly remembered the events leading up to this purchase, so I recounted my tale of woe to her. Immediately, her eyes lit up, she laughed, and she ran around the house telling anyone who would listen that, "Sam let a gay guy pick out his cologne!" The not-so-subtle implication, of course, was that wife watch was going to suddenly take a sharp turn.

By this point, I gave up. I just laughed, stood back, and watched the sheer glee that this story brought to my sister's face. Let's just say that I'm guessing she won't be the only one amused by all of this.

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