I'm sure you're familiar with this scenario:
You enter a store, wanting simply to find the stuff you are looking for, buy it, and leave. That's all you want. But no. That's not going to happen. Because as soon as you get three feet in the place, there's some obnoxiously scrawny employee who practically throws herself at you, opens her trap, and blurts out: HIIIII, welcome to "Overpriced, Insufficiently Creative Clothing Store"! My name is "Annoying late 80's trendy name or pretentiously androgynous name, something similar to Kylie/Skylar/Hyannis". If there's ANYTHING I can help you with, let me know!!! First of all, can't a simple, discreet "Hello, welcome to "Deliberately Slightly Depreciatingly Named, Higher Scale Clothing and Haberdashery Boutique catering to the right sort of people" suffice. She's an employee, it's generally understood that you'll be asking for help if it's needed. And really, do you honestly need to know her name? No. Her name is immaterial to you. You will not, and do not remember her name after she screams it. Her fake attempts at privileged intimacy are not impressive.
But how many of you have been subjected to this?
After practically assaulting you, you try to move on to the shelves/racks/layout to get that desired object. Instead of getting the picture, however, she FOLLOWS you. As you cringe and try to move away, she starts her own little Inquisition of 20-something year old perkiness: So what's your name? Are you finding everything you need? Are you from the area? Where are you interning? Oh wow, I'm an intern too at So and So's congressional office. Blah blah blah. Finally, you pick up the first damn thing that looks like what you wanted and run to the cashier. Only to be attacked once more because she's the one manning it. Just for you. And after she tries to get you to sign up for some stupid mailing list and cotton polyester blend enthusiast club, you run frantically to the door, followed by best wishes for the day and demands to return to buy their garbage.
Yes. This did happen to me at Pentagon City Mall's J.Crew. While extremes like this probably don't happen that often, it's basically understood that once you enter a store, you will meet a battalion of over-eager store clerks trying to show how much they care about YOU. When I've been in Madewell and Ann Taylor Loft recently, the cashier attendant even asks if/which store clerk helped you. And apparently if the worker nearest you didn't beat you over the head with 'courtesy,' he/she will get chewed out later on for not being courteous enough.
News Flash: I want to be left alone when I go to the store. If I wanted to become BFF with you, I'd approach you. Secondly, stop pretending to be so friendly by telling me your name. Thirdly, don't demand to know mine.
And on that matter, what is this weird obsession about first name basis only for EVERYTHING? Back in the day, you didn't splash your Christian name around. Workers went by Mr./Miss So-and-So. You introduced yourself that way until you knew the person better. I'm sure it has something to do with security, as it's easier for that creeper to find you online if he knows your last name. But I suspect it has something to do with the breakdown of barriers into today's society. We aren't allowed to withhold information, as soon as something happens, we're supposed to spread it to the world via Twitter, text messaging, etc. (But I will admit I rely on people doing this on Facebook. Don't judge me) If you don't want to tell the world something, you're being snooty. And so store workers are being forced more and more to present inclusiveness and show how welcoming and friendly they are. They think they're being polite. It just makes me want to punch them in the face. It's not polite to be a heinous bother. Now shut up, and go fold those polo shirts. That's what I need from you.