Wednesday, October 11, 2006


putting my face on

After work M-boss, Mel, and I went to Douglas, home of cosmetics, brushes, glitter eye shadow, and other stuff I don't really need. I went in with the purpose of purchasing blush - I had dropped mine on the toilet seat, and it was finally done for good. To confess, it was a bit of a relief, since it has been broken for a good couple of months, but I've been too...thrifty/lazy/cheap/fill in the buy a new one.

Anyhow, we were all trying the perfumes, and I wanted to spritz Tender Touch by Burberry. They didn't have a tester out, so I asked the lady scaling a ladder on the opposite wall if she had a tester. She responded sorta bitchily, and said no.

(Basically the only bitchy part of that was me not getting the answer I wanted, to be honest.)

The three of us continued to spray away. I went back to the makeup, and M-boss decided to peace out of the shopfest, and hit the gym. Unbenownst to her, she was going to miss all of the fun.

Employee saw me and Mel puzzling over the blush (peach? pink? pink with bluish tone?! WHAT WILL MAKE ME LOOK ALIVE?!), so she came over and began doing what she does best - making customers feel extremely awkward by putting makeup on them. I stood there, trying to avoid looking directly ahead as a 5'5" woman patted "buff" powder on my jawline, cheekbone, one side of my nose, forehead, etc. I'd look to my left, then look to my right, catch Mel's eyes, then crack up. It was so awkward in a "I should be more mature so this isn't awkward" way. Her face was about three inches from mine. I forgot how to breathe, in fear that I'd exhale in her face, or crinkle the makeup, or look like anything but a cool 23-year old.

(Let's be frank here. That cover was blown the minute I walked in and said that one perfume smelled like poo.)

Employee (name = Gabrielle) finished up, advised me on which blush to use, and I thanked her. I made a joke to Mel about how it was a good thing that I was going out on a date tonight (since one side of my face was all dolled up). Gabrille ran to answer the ringing phone.

Wandering around the display, I went back to the perfume. And Gabrielle came back, grabbed a stool in an efficient (dare I say... "German"?) manner, and instructed me to sit down, and relax.

Zipping around the store, she swooped up her tools, and got to work. She diligently added powder to the rest of my face, applied blush, found some eyeshadow, and painted on lip gloss. Looking into her purple eyeshadowed eyes, I pictured war-like blush streaks on my cheeks, and dark, hideous lids. Reaching into my hair and lifting, she told me that now I'd look good for my date.

*Awkward Pause*

Mel was standing in front of me this entire time. Almost holding back laughter. My lips felt sticky. Globbed in lip gloss. But also hot and shiny.

Gabrielle gave me the mirror, and I couldn't believe it. It was me...but better. Dewy cheeks, smoother skin, prettier lips, brighter eyes. It was ridiculous. Even my hair looked better, and she hadn't really done anything with it. The woman has magic fingers.

Ringing me up, she threw in a free gift that my purchase hadn't warranted. And asked about my date. I replied in my "oh, you knowwww" voice that I'd be hitting up a restaurant with, um, some guy. I didn't have the heart to tell her that my only date set was the one with my TV.

Then she told me that I needed some perfume to make all the guys want me, or something. Telling me that I should never, ever, EVER rub my perfume in, she grabbed a pink bottle off the bottom shelf and sprayed my wrists, neck, and the backs of my knees (since I was wearing a skirt). After doing that, she grabbed a bottle for Mel, and sprayed her liberally, telling her that if her man bit her tonight, she'd know why.

I smothered guffaws, since Mel had walked around with that bottle about a half hour earlier as an example of what NOT to smell like.

As Mel and I walked out of the store, she wished me luck on my date (aarrrggghhhh) and I promised to come back soon to check on the perfume tester status. Mel and I reached the sidewalk, and Mel said that she wanted to go to happy hour. I agreed. So we went to Heritage India. And it was good. And I got five marriage proposals. The end.

It's always a matter of fascination, women who have themselves made up in the middle of a busy store.

Now I get it.

Thank you Meg.
I sooooooooooo needed that laugh. Thanks!

And now I know how to get marriage proposals. :)
wombat: just happened so fast...before I knew it, I was one of them.

TC: hurray! Always glad to help out a fellow female!
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