The Sneaky Sales Lady

A few months ago, I was at American Eagle browsing the clearance, like I always do. I’m not kidding– any time I go into an American Eagle, I go straight to the back because that’s where the clearance is, and thus the semi-affordable apparel. I do my best to shield my eyes to the rest of the store because it hurts too much to see all the pretty clothes I can’t afford.

Anyway, the underwear table next to the clearance caught my attention, and I noticed they were having a 5 for $15 sale, which is a REALLY good deal if you’re familiar with various hyped-up underwear brands. For example, on any normal day, underwear at American Eagle would go 5 for $27.50.

So needless to say, I wasn’t leaving that store without my five pairs of underwear. I spent a lot of time deciding which patterns and styles I liked best, then I had to determine what size I probably was (because I owned no American Eagle underwear, and even if I did–let’s be honest–I wouldn’t be able to remember which size I was). After researching on my phone and taking notes in my notepad, cross-analyzing and postulating an assortment of algorithms, I finally had my selection and went to check out.

The sales clerk was very amiable. “Oh, I LOVE when we do 5 for $15! These are so cute–I have these at home. Isn’t it ridiculous how expensive they usually are? I watched a documentary on how Victoria’s Secret underwear and Walmart underwear are manufactured at the same factory. It’s just all about the brand!”

“Yeah,” I replied. (I, too, am very amiable.)

That’s when she took advantage of me.

I don’t know, I must have had “SUCKER” written on my forehead, because that super friendly sales bitch tricked me into opening a credit card.

“How can you be tricked into opening a credit card?” you may be thinking. (You may also be thinking, “Crap, I forgot my laundry was in the dryer,” or option C, “I could really go for some griddle fried cheese grits right now.”)

Well, this is what she said to me:

“If you have your ID, you can save 20%!”

And I thought to myself, “Wow, I want to save 20%, and I have my ID!”

And what I said was, “Okay!”

At which point she probably thought to herself, “Hook, line, and sinker.” I mean, I didn’t even take a second to protest. She didn’t even need to use her five script lines as backup persuasions. (“No thanks.” “It will only take 2 minutes and it can save 20%!” “I’ll pass.” “You’re telling me you don’t have 2 minutes to spare?” “I don’t want it.” “This credit card pays for itself with all the savings you get.” “FINE SIGN ME UP IF IT MEANS YOU LET ME LEAVE.”)

So, I handed that bad boy over. (“Bad boy,” meaning my driver’s license of squinty short-haired 16-year-old me.)

She began punching in the information from my card; meanwhile, I was standing at the register entirely oblivious to what I had just agreed to. Imagine me slightly bouncing and looking around the store with an empty, contented gaze.

“All right, just answer a couple questions on the key pad,” she chirped, and I complied, typing in a few bits of information about me. After a few seconds, she said, “Great! You were approved!”

Huh….???

Approved?

Uh…

I looked at her with a frozen face of surprise as the realization hit me. No wonder she asked for my social security number………..

“Oh…kay…” I said, completely befuddled. Did I just sign up for a credit card?? She duped me! Without even saying the word “credit card” once!

She bagged my underwear and gave me the receipt. I stood there with my money still in my hand.

“Oh, ah, I didn’t pay yet,” I said.

“You can pay it online!” she said. “The link to the site is on the receipt!”

“Can’t I just pay now?”

“No, it won’t let it.” She gave some half-assed explanation that made so little sense that I don’t even remember it.

“Okay….” I said, unsure. I robotically grabbed my bag and slowly exited the store, wondering what happened. I so innocently wanted to buy underwear and left the store corrupted by the taint of possessing a credit card, a cut of plastic rumored to be so evil that it can destroy your life–or worse–your credit.

Two weeks later, I got that credit card in the mail. Oh goody, now I have an AMERICAN EAGLE CREDIT CARD, a store I more frequently don’t-shop-at than do. Needless to say, it’s canceled.

And that’s a lesson to you, kids.

  1. Don’t let anyone see your ID. Not even TSA, they may be trying to sell you some airline credit card.
  2. 5 for $15 may have seemed like a godsend, but even the most silvery silver linings can turn non-silver.
  3. You can’t even trust the friendly sales bitch. She’ll fool you as soon you let your guard down with all her playful underwear-talk.

(Although, to be fair, that really was some damn good underwear.)

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