Hi. Remember me? I'm the Mom-ish looking lady that came into your store today to buy some more protein powder. The one who chooses fruit flavored ones because she doesn't like the taste of chocolate or vanilla unless they are mixed with milk?
Oh yeah! I see you DO remember me. Do you remember the hard time you gave me for not drinking milk? I wanted to have a little talk with you about your lecture today. See, when I answer your question of "Why would you not want to drink milk when it is a good, healthy fat, filled with all kinds of things that are good and necessary for your body ..." with "because at this time my trainer prefers that I drink my protein shakes made with water instead" what I am saying is "back off, Jack, I might look like Mom, but I am for real." It is NOT an invitation to give me a 10 minute lecture on the wonderful qualities of milk.
In fact, the moment I put my headphones back on should have been a clue that I was done listening to you. But you did not take the hint, and I, being a fairly polite mom, gave you a chance to "educate" me on the benefits of milk. Maybe it was because I did allow you the time to give me your sales spiel on a new version of your house protein powder, did indeed take your advice and decide to give it a try, that you thought you had before you a know-nothing in need of your "expertise".
Or maybe you were just bored and I was the only person who came into your store.
I don't know. But the 2nd clue that you were traveling down a path best left alone was in my reply to your comment that you have been drinking your protein shakes made with milk your whole life. My answer was "Yes ... but YOU are a BOY." (Picture eye brow lifted.)
You see, you have no clue about what I am doing, what my eating plan is, what my struggles are. Maureen, my TRAINER, she does. She knows what I am doing, what I am trying to accomplish, what my stumbling blocks have been. So, at the mention of a trainer, you should have backed down and realized that I was getting the real assistance that I needed and your 1-minute armchair analysis of my situation would not come close to the in-depth help I was getting from someone walking the whole journey with me. I honestly don't care that you have been a personal trainer for 2 years or how many qualifications you have behind your name. You are not MY trainer. You are the boy working behind the counter at my local GNC, who is supposed to sell me stuff and take my money when you accomplish that task.
After I left your store, I started getting a little perturbed at our conversation. I'm sorry ... at the LECTURE I received about milk. I nearly turned back around to tell you all these things I just wrote down for you. Lucky for you, though, there was a turkey burger on whole wheat pita waiting for me at home and lunch time trumped my need to educate you on proper sales etiquette.
There's always next time ...
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