Thursday, July 07, 2005

I Think I Have Intimacy 'Issues'

I finally bit the bullet today and bought some new shoes*. They were particularly nice ones, in a wiiiiiide fitting, on sale. (I know, score!) All was going quite well, I had my aversion to shoe shopping pretty much under control, no red mist was descending, but then the shop assistant weirded me out a bit.

Is it just me, or is it too bizzarely intimate for a shop assistant to address you as my love?

This taps into one thing I have never been very keen on, and seem to be increasingly bothered by as I get older, fake intimacy. Or probably more accurately, a pretense of intimacy by people I don't know, and which oversteps the line between friendliness and intimacy. I'm not sure I'm explaining this correctly, but I think you can be friendly without taking on a pretense that there is any sort of closeness or relationship other than a mercantile one.

Hands up all those who think I think too much?

* My horror of buying shoes is on account of my horrendous wide, flat 'hobbit feet', which I touched upon in my 100 Things post and extolled the ugliness of here.


Bodhi said...


Well amongst other things, I have been called "cutie", "love" and "sweetie" by shop assistants, but I don't ever recall being called "my love". I suppose it all would depend on who was saying it. If it was some little retail twink, I would quite like it, but if it was some old matronly assistant, I would be somewhat freaked out (thats just wrong!).

Personally I always find it interesting in the reaction one gets when one is dressed up shopping (as moi often is), or even more so if one is shopping in a suit (don't ask, it happens). It's amazing how all of a sudden these myths called sales assistants often magically materialise from stores that never seemed to have them before. And I get called things like "Boss" and "Sir", which always amuses me no end.

Me think thou dost think somewhat too much, Andrew. Ok sweetie, darling, sweetie.


Bodhi :-)
Sydney, Australia

Michael said...

Watch your step, Andrew hon, because you are teetering on the precipice of "prickly".