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| - I walked in, looking for the section with the least beige plaid. A quick tour around the room and even from ten feet away, I could tell they didn't have what I was looking for. I turned to head out.
"Can I help you find something?" An older woman, standing at the counter by the door, looked up from her magazine to bark at me.
"Oh, uh, sure. I was looking for the Prorsum line," I replied, as politely as I could muster.
"The what?" she said sharply, lowering her glasses to look at me over the top, her glance so suspicious I worried for a minute that I'd said "porno" or something by accident.
"The Burberry Prorsum line... by Christopher Bailey? It's the runway collection..." I trailed off, figuring there wasn't much point in standing here explaining to a lady that the store she worked in had a more stylish collection that she'd apparently never heard of.
"Oh," she sniffed, after I said 'runway.' "What do you want?"
"From the collection?" I was baffled by her balance of apathy and antipathy. "I guess I just wanted to look at it in person. Just browse whatever was around, you know?"
"We've got a book," she sniffed again, putting a lookbook on the counter. "You could order something, maybe."
At this point, I was about to suggest that I wouldn't give her my business if she were the last clerk on earth, let alone the last clerk with unfounded pretension working at a poorly-stocked store in a suburban mall... but fortunately, another sales associate walked over and interjected.
"Actually," he said, "We do have two purses from the collection over here, and it's not out on the floor, but we've got a skirt from the spring collection that was a return. We don't carry the Prorsum line here yet, but we should be getting more of the accessories for the fall. Would you like me to show you the purses?"
And so he saved the store from a one star rating. Good job, clerk #2.
Admittedly, a mall in Scottsdale wouldn't be my first guess for where to find the heavy leather jacket from the F2005 collection I was looking for. But sometimes strange outposts of more urban brands wind up with a sale rack of random leftovers from older collections (and the aforementioned customer returns of things purchased at other stores) and so it was worth a look.
It would, however, have been more worthwhile if decorum hadn't prevented me from hurling the lookbook at the cranky biddy behind the counter.
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