We usually visit Whistler BC once a year (we live in the Vancouver area) in the summer. One year, about every half-minute we got stopped by a time-share person. "Hello, you people seem to live in Vancouver, how would you like.." We stopped them right there - not only do we have no interest in buying a time-share there, we wouldn't come close to meeting the income requirements. We couldn't figure out how they knew we lived near Vancouver though, till we finally figured out that Dh was wearing a souvenir-T-shirt that he'd gotten from volunteering at a half-marathon in Vancouver.
When Chip and I are at the beach, we have people sticking their heads out of kiosks ("How you folks doing today?") or even following us around Barefoot Landing trying to get us to listen to their time-share spiels by offering us discount tickets to some of the shows. I always say, "I'm a local," and walk on. And I do consider myself a local, since I'm only four and a half hours away and am down there at least once a year, sometimes oftener, and I just about know the town as well as I do my own. At any rate, I'm a local while I'm there!
I simply cannot abide pushy salespeople, no matter what they are selling. And I'm especially tired of those (admittedly hunky) guys who work at kiosks at the mall grabbing my hands, wanting to rub lotion on them. One recently asked me how I cleaned my face. "With soap and water," I answered. "Well, you know how you can smooth out those lines that begin with aging?" he asked.
"Sure," I said. "Botox." And that was that.
Evil Scritzy tends to wander around the mall a lot.