Denied a Sample

There I was, strolling through the mall searching for birthday gifts for my significant other, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was starving! Having subconsciously decided to fast that day for no particular reason (how come this is always more tolerable than fasting on Yom Kippur?), I approached the food court with glee. I always have a tendency to go for the Asian food, though in 27 years I have rarely found an establishment in a mall food court that wasn't disgusting. The exception is Sarku, home of the excellent, affordable chicken teriyaki. But with so much consistently crappy food, why do I keep returning again and again? It's got to be the samples.

The appeal of free food is timeless for Americans, so much so that on Election Day chains like Starbucks, Krispy Kreme, and Ben & Jerry's promote free drinks and snacks just to get you into their establishments. And sadly, it works. This past Election day I found myself Google mapping Ben and Jerry's and gave serious consideration to driving 45 minutes to the nearest for a small vanilla cone. Never mind that the gas needed to get there would at least match the price of a large. Fortunately I came to my senses, though with Starbucks (whose coffee I don't even particularly like) only minutes away, stopping there was a no-brainer.

Free samples seem to ignite a similar urge in most of us. Case in point: Every year when I visit Ogunquit Beach during the summer, I make a point to stop at Stonewall Kitchen, located about 15 minutes east on Route 1. But I don't go for the decor, or the cook books, or for gift baskets, or even to buy food. Stonewall is a sample haven, featuring an assortment of sauces, dips, jams, syrups, peanut butters, cheeses, crackers, and chocolates. If Vegas had to estimate the odds of my actually purchasing any of these items, the Beef-line would be hovering around 4%. But that doesn't stop me from visiting every chance I get.

I don't think I have any specific tells (had to insert a poker reference somewhere) when it comes to identifying me as an enthusiastic sampler. Sure, I'm a tad on the heavier side, but visit your local shopping mall and the average weight for consumers tends to jump about 20 pounds, so I'm really right in the ballpark. Anyway, on my most recent visit I was making the rounds, passing Sbarro, Subway, et al. until I reached the Asian options. A kind man willingly threw himself at me with a sample of chicken on a toothpick. It actually wasn't half-bad, but I needed more if I was to make an informed decision. I smiled and continued on my way. Five seconds later a woman from the next location offered me some chicken. By the way, why do they always offer chicken? Is it the cheapest item to make or do they actually think it's so delicious no one could possibly resist? Regardless, the second sample left something to be desired so I moved on to the final Asian option. A new woman held her tray of chicken the same as her competitors, turning from left to right, surveying the crowd. When I got close, she sharply and unexpectedly turned 180 degrees. I'm not kidding. Her back was to me. I figured her boss had called her so she turned to face him. She didn't move for a few seconds, so finally I spoke.

"Excuse me," I inquired politely. "Can I try one?"

She subtly shook her head once without giving me a verbal response. I was confused, so I asked again.

"Excuse me, could I have one?"
"NO!"

I laughed in disbelief, and began scanning the area for any traces of cameras, or for that matter Ali G, Ryan Seacrest, Ashton Kutcher, David Letterman, or Jamie Kennedy. I thought Dave Chappelle might jump out from behind a plant and declare, "You been Zapped!" At least that would've been funny, but with nobody in sight, I asked again.

"I can't have a sample?"
"NO!"

She was even more emphatic the second time, so I asked why not?

"One per person."

I asked what she was talking about, explaining that I hadn't been to her station or asked her for one yet. She angrily started waving her finger in a circle, pointing at the other Asian restaurants located next to her's. I smiled, but more shocked than anything else. She was like a bad SNL character.

"So you're serious? I can't have a sample?"

She didn't even answer me as I looked at her. Perplexed, I kind of half-laughed and started to leave. All of a sudden, she whipped her heads back around, jammed a toothpick into a piece of chicken as if she was butchering it, and practically shoved it in my face.

"Here," she snarled.

I had almost no idea how to react, though annoyance had clearly taken over at this point.

"What are you kidding me? Forget it."

The sample bitch had made up my mind for me. I walked back to the first eatery, ordered some chicken & broccoli, fried rice, and a soda. I decided to strategically position myself at a table very close to the woman who'd snubbed me. Needless to say I wanted her to see me eating food prepared by her competition, but more than that, I was curious to know how she treated other customers. Inconsistency was the word that first came to mind. Some people she quickly approached, inviting them to experience the succulent flavor that must've enveloped her tender chicken. But judging by the tormented faces of those who were subjected to this death offering, I hadn't missed much. But strangely enough, several people walked right by her without being stopped, instead having to ask themselves for a sample. Still she didn't flat-out reject anybody else. While I pretended to make phone calls as I ate (my life is beyond excitement), I kept a firm eye on the sample bitch, which she caught about once a minute. My goal in addition to obtaining information was to make her as uncomfortable as humanly possible.

After finishing my dinner I went back to shopping and job hunting, stopping to apply in every store I thought wouldn't have me pulling my limited hair out if hired. However, I'm starting to fear I may indeed be too smart for several of these places. Job search engines like monster.com have proved useless, recommending positions I wouldn't consider unless I was crippled with an IQ of 12 and spoke no English. Does anyone actually find work on these websites? Last week a video store clerk told me over the phone that if I hadn't heard a reply by the end of the week they probably decided to go in another direction. Another direction? What does he think he's running a Fortune 500 company? How many directions can there be at a Family Video? I'm 27, know a ton about movies, and have great communication skills. It's a vicious cycle, being matched to jobs beneath me that I inexplicably can't land anyway. More on this at a later point.

Anyway, I didn't get too far from the food court, because I still didn't have a sufficient answer to the riddle of the evening. I was not going to let a situation this ridiculous keep me up at night wondering what happened. Too many people have been screwing me over, so I decided it was my turn. I approached the cashier, who seemed to be the manager as well. Unlike the sample bitch, he was smiling. I still had my soda cup from the other eatery.

"What Can I get you?"
"Nothing actually, but I wanted to ask you a something? Are you all owned by the same people,” pointing to the other Asian establishments near by.

Note: While I'd still consider the sampler (sounds like a McDonald's character) a moron for refusing me food earlier, I might at least have understood her frustration if they were all indeed owned by the same group. Watching hundreds of people walk by each day, take samples from the only restaurants offering them, and then order a number 2 meal with a gold crown from Burger King would annoy me as well. Although if I were in her shoes, I'd surely understand that good business comes first. But as it turns out, this line of thinking was irrelevant.

"No, we are not," he answered.
"Oh, wow. Ok well I wanted to let you know that your employee wouldn't give me a sample when I walked by."

The man looked perplexed.

"No sample?"
"No, she wouldn't give me one. I asked for one and she said no to me."

In a sudden panic that needless to say made me giggle, he grabbed a fork and reached into his chicken tray to give me some. I shook my head and waved my hand.

"No thanks. I don't want any now. I already ate."

I showed him my cup from the other location. Despite there being somewhat of a language barrier, a picture is worth a thousand words. The expression on his face made me pretty confident he knew what I was saying.

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I wanted a sample before, but she wouldn't give me one. So I didn't eat here."

He nodded and started conversing with a woman to his right. As I left he sort of shrugged and gave me a half-grin, seeming somewhat ashamed of what had happened. Bad business is bad business in any culture. I turned back and saw him calling the sampler towards him. I have no idea what was said, but he didn't look happy. While I hadn't received a straight answer directly from the sample bitch regarding the strange chain of events she'd provoked, I took some pleasure in knowing I hadn't let the situation stand. In this world you've got to stand up for yourself, whether arguing with a professor over an unfair grade, scrambling to find work at a Staples, or getting the sub par chicken sample you so richly deserve. Wouldn't it be ironic if the sample bitch was fired that night creating an opportunity for me to become the first Caucasian sampler at an Asian eatery in a mall food court? With my luck, monster.com will consider this the perfect match.