A Fittingly Mundane Start to get the Ball Rolling...

Voila! (after musing to myself for a few seconds in the hope of finding a word to start my FIRST EVER BLOG I clearly decided none of the [insert number here*] words in the english language were satisfactory)
*I must apologise for this disclaimer so early on in my FIRST EVER BLOG, but apparently [and I am prepared to admit to attempting this] typing in 'how many words are in the english language' into google generates the oddly realistic reply of, AND I QUOTE: 'There is no single sensible answer to this question'. Excellent. So, grumbling, I must return to my FIRST EVER BLOG which has somehow acquired nearly 8 lines of these apparently uncountable words...ahh dear. Rambling has set in already.

Let me recommence (please). I have lately been trying to think of a sufficiently everyday occurence worthy of note. And.. Voila! (This 'voila' would have had better effect if I hadn't started the whole post with it...however, I am not in the least bit tempted to rethink my starting word so this will have to do...)
BASICALLY (as the Sherlockians among you may have realised, I am fast losing my grip [cue singing-Avril-Lavigne-in-corner-of-screen] on what I am saying, straining to keep my grasp on the fiery entrails of my story. :O)....
BASICALLY...walking through WHSmith today I was victim to.....*intense drumroll*
A salesperson.
You know, the ones that lurk around trying to make eye contact with you before throwing their products into your path with practiced ease and a winning smile.
Scarystuff.
Leading me to think [*glowing light builds up behind the proclaiming blogger (That's me)*] ...PERFECT!
This is a perfectly everyday-not-very-interesting-yet-potentially-scarring-event-to-mention-only-through-the-anonymous-medium-of-internet-posting..thought I.
In truth, this is merely my cover story...I did in fact fall into their sales-trap by my foolish mistake in thinking myself safe inside the shop...I was unaware 'they' had taken to lurking inside shops rather than in the freezing cold. *sigh*
Be that as it may, rushing through the shop as I was in that faster way that you walk when by yourself - where you only realise your walkspeed after zooming distractedly down a street and being out of breath - a man lunged out of nowhere into my path. As I swerved out of the way of collision I had time only to realise there were three other similarly-clothed men stationed by the heaters at the door, before I had been attacked by verbal questioning.
Have you heard of -inaudible name-
Was there an 'excuse me' there?? I don't recall....... *dismissive glance at questioning man*
No.
Have you heard of Sex and the City?
What now? Throw him off the scent completely. [In reality didn't actually think of answer to question, but blurted out word in mind]
No.
Puzzled glance on salesperson. Good. I have successfully reduced expert-persuasive-talking-seller into hesitation. Oh no. He is gathering back his confidence.
Ah..so you don't watch it, me neither, it's -inaudible description-
Starting to get desperate now. I must find escape, yet I am still somewhat inquisitive - man is amusing me. He gestures me over to a table of makeup. I start to wonder why he has stopped me. did he think me in need of make up? Did he think me rich? Did he think me a weak target? As I am clearly not going to be a buyer, is he simply trying to look useful to the outside eye?
Here follows a bombardment of description of various make up products, in which well-rehearsed-salesman incorporates much kinetic and rhetoric techniques. For example, after commenting in a jokey manner on the many 'make up bombs' that MUST have happened in my bags, sales-man hands me a foundation stick 'for free' and I am made to stroke the casing on a pack of eyeshadow (incidentally, the casing material is the same as on GHD's).
I admit by this point I am having much fun. While being comfortable in the knowledge that I could never be persuaded by his comments, I am considering what would happen if I ran off with the foundation stick, and also enjoying the many 'interested' and 'impressed' faces I am using.
Next, we move onto blusher, involving a heartstopping moment in which I must expose my bare hand [and so grapple with my long sleeve without looking too pathetic] so sales-man can show off the 'brushiness' of the 'brush'.
And then....lipglosses! and so many! with this word 'free' being thrown about so liberally (pun intended as an afterthought :p), one can only assume these too, are free?
And What are we going to do? We're going to give that to you free aswell!
I knew it.
I am then shown the assortment of pink shades available.
That's one for every boyfriend! *accompanies light-hearted comment [no doubt intended to put customer at ease] with a cheeky nudge and a wink*
My response is, of course, a nervous laugh (what else? He is leaving me no room to speak). But what on earth is his comment supposed to mean? Am I being insulted or flattered???
And now, the big moment. I have to admit, sales-person made it very easy to sit back and relax while being talked at, and yet have the impression that I was making decisions and answering his questions. But now, I think he must have expected me to find a sudden burst of enthusiasm (which I'm still baffled to understand he didn't find amiss from the off) in whipping out some money.
So, you're thinking what's the catch?
Me? No, really. You flatter me. I honestly thought all these products were going to be free. Although it is nice to be told what I'm thinking. :
Sales-man then proceeds to reel off a list of number and prices and successes and discounts and the like...
I spot talk-time will soon be over and expectant looks will soon commence, I edge away (still don't know when that foundation stick actually left my hand...perhaps when he was showing me the nifty little packing device for all my make-up needs??)
In my edging away (now making no more attempt to seem willing to stay), I mumble something about going to the bank
Well we take card...
I've nearly made it to the door. I can feel the heaters. I'm almost out. One last burst of interest.
Really? *pause for impression of torn-by-decision* I might come back in a bit then.
[how much of that descended into mumbling I don't quite know]
And then I'm out. And avoiding WHSmith like the plague.

I do feel a little bit like a time-waster, but to be honest, I had fun, he got practice, I had time to spare, and he was being paid.
As a final note (I promise, it is final...) I wish to apologise for this lengthy first post! Especially on
such a dull topic, which would no doubt have disappeared into the dusty recesses of my short term memory if not for this...
over&outtt (you'll be glad to hear!)

:D