"Look into my eyes, babe!"

In the German synchronisation of 'Casablanca', Humphrey Bogart says "Look into my eyes, babe" instead of 'Here's lookin' at you, kid". With my eyes I had a special adventure yesterday, on my way to the Sales. It was very difficult to find Southern Moulton Lane! When I asked a young man if he could show me the way I didn't realize that he was a salesperson - sorry: the manager of a cosmetic firm called Gold-Oro (they might have thought "Make assurance double sure!", or "Even the simplest person will fall for gold + gold.") 
I should have become suspicious when he asked me to come into the shop - to look up the address...
Inside he offered me a hand massage - "Look!", he cheered while rubbing my hand with a lotion, "look: such a marvelous result! Our Peeling hand creme is made with the ingredience 'pure gold' - so good for the skin!" I answered testily: "I love gold around my neck or finger - in form of jewels." 

"Britta", he said, "but you know the best thing you can give your skin? Gold! Ah - which skincare do you use?" "Shiseido." "Good - very good - but you know: We sell ... Luxury!". He told me the price of the 'Luxury' - for one eycream they wanted 500 GBP!
"But it will last for two years!" he said - forgetting that just before he had told me it is not good when skin 'get used to a cream like Shiseido for a long time.'
He was not only very talkative, very beautiful and touching me all the time (I thought of the Moomin-figures called "Klippdass" in German Moomins - they leave little sticky footprints wherever they go) - no, he knew every trick in the book. He even invited me to holidays in his house in Israel!
When I announced that I had to go now he became imploring, and started to haggle like a carpet dealer.
Can you imagine: I would have got that wonder cream - but only NOW! that offer would be only valid if I buy NOW! - for a paltry sum of 200 GBP - and when I announced my leaving again, he added a facial 'for nothing' that normally would cost me 85 GBP.
One characteristic of mine is that I can be stubborn as a mule. And I am not daft: I have written a 250 page manuscript on beauty and beauty products. And I am schooled in negotiation too.
So I tapped him on his arm, looked as deep into his beautiful eyes as he had in mine, and said - as he had done: "Love - you are such a charming man! I'm sorry to disappoint you - it hasn't be your fault, you were very good - but sorry - I have to go now." As I saw his crestfallen face I added soothingly: "Maybe I think about it all and come back."
He said: "In the next life." Then he laughed.
Which showed me: he wasn't daft either. And a good guy, underneath the salesperson.
As I.