Running the gantlet of kiosks
Thanksgiving was still two weeks away, and the kiddies were already lining up to chat with Santa Claus. That’s an irritating part of holiday season at the shopping mall, but it’s predictable. Thanksgiving really does get cheated in the name of all the hucksterism.
What I hadn’t counted on were all the kiosk workers.
You know them, the salespeople who man those little pop-up stores that clog the open space at shopping malls. Although there are always a few, the kiosks seem to multiply with the season. They hawk phone cases, keychains, fake hair extensions, massagers and the like. I once got roped into buying my daughter an expensive hair bun that attached to her head with a big, circular claw. I tried to block her view as we walked past, but too late: before I could distract her, the worker wrangled her into a chair and was putting the bun on her head. I handed over my credit card. She wore the hairpiece home from the mall that day and never again.
The kiosk business model is impulse and ambush. At exactly the moment when you are not thinking about your sagging neck skin, a nice man with a tucked-in shirt juts his arm into your path, offering to let you try the new miracle cream. Even if you politely decline and keep walking, you are now thinking about your neck skin. Did he notice something droopy? And might that have been why he (along with every other sales person under age 30) called you ma’am as you made your rounds today.
It’s a tough gig, and I wouldn’t want to do it. I’m guessing they hear “No thanks” a lot, but occasionally they rope someone in. My last trip to the mall, I saw a woman about my age sitting in the chair and staring at her face in the mirror while the face-cream guy dabbed moisturizer on her cheeks. Did she think she needed it? Or was she too nice to say no?
The kiosks are the reverse version of the door-to-door salesman. Stranger-danger being what it is, kids don’t really ring doorbells to sell magazines or cookies for sports or Scouts anymore. Now, the Girl Scouts set up tables outside grocery stores, hoping the display of Thin Mints will draw us in. With kiosks, the products and their pitchers stand still, lying in wait for the prospects to walk by.
Retail analysts say the most successful mall kiosk products are skin care and massage items, sunglasses, and snacks. And I am here to say that those roasted nuts they sometimes sell outside the GAP store do smell delicious. That aroma is like the ads that pop up when I’m doing a search on the internet. It’s clickbait, designed to pull you in.
Kiosks exist because they’re cheaper than regular stores, but if they succeed, it’s because we humans are like crows – so easily fascinated and distracted by the shiny things in our path. Last Christmas season, I was shopping in New York when I passed a kiosk selling plush bunnies whose bellies held removable bean bags that could be warmed in the microwave. I bought one for my daughter, believing she would snuggle to sleep with it every night.
The first time we microwaved the insert, we scorched the bean bag and the beans fell out. I couldn’t tell you where that bunny is now. It was $30.
Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.