Puma

This store is awful. The shoe selection is poor, but that’s not the big issue. The reason I will never return to this store again is the staff. They are consistently unhelpful, rude, and borderline condescending. Each of the few times I went ther, some loser wearing a beanie dancing around had customer service skills which consisted of ignoring everyone who walked into the store. Even worse than him is the girl with he Skrillex haircut who stands around picking at her nails. The only word I can use to describe her is far too inappropriate for this review, so I will settle for snotty. She gave me a terrible attitude when I tried to return a an item that fit horribly. The entire staff needs to be fired along with the manager for the mere fact that he/​she was responsible for hiring these imbeciles. My advice: don’t go anywhere near this store. If I could give 0 stars, I would.

My thanks go to this very store for my addiction to Puma, perhaps curses as well depending how you look at it. Years ago I was lured in by the all the sexy shoes on the wall just waiting to be fondled and ogled. Ninety bucks for this pair? I suppose I can swing it just this once. Little did I know I wouldn’t be able to resist coming back again… and again… and so on.
During my second visit I mentioned I was from Boston and looked forward to coming to the Mall of America for Puma, and the staff member helping me out seemed pleased to see I was like a kid in a candy store so far away from home. Then he asked, «You know there’s one in Boston, right?» My mind was blown. At that point I really became intrigued with Puma and started to research the brand more, my obsession growing. As a Jedi might say, the force is strong with this one.
I have family and friends in Minnesota, and being that I live in the Boston area I don’t really get out to the Midwest often. But when I do, I try to make a point of stopping by the Mall of America with Cinnabon and Puma on my radar. Do I want to get sick and then shop? Or shop and then get sick? It’s a tossup, but it happens every time one way or the other.
Thanks, Minnesota. Curses, too.