On Saturday, a friend and I went down to San Antonio for the day. She really wanted to go to the Bare Escentuals store at the shops at La Cantera so that they could show her how to put on her makeup (which she’d bought earlier). After lunch, we wandered down to the store and the girl at the door asked us if she could help us. My friend told her that she wanted someone to help her apply some makeup and the girl asked if I wanted mine done too while I waited. Seeing as only people getting makeup put on got chairs, I said sure. She then told us it would be a twenty minute wait.
We wandered around the very small store for a while, looking at various things and noticing that, while there were only two or three customers in the store, there were at least six sales girls all wandering around, doing very little. While we stood and waited (have I ever mentioned how much I hate standing? And especially when I’m carrying a bag of Chinese food cartons?).
Finalllllllllly, the door girl approached us and said someone was ready for me. But then that someone started talking about how they had the flu, maybe, and probably should go home, yes? Could Kevin do it instead?
In a make up store?
And then Kevin came over to the chair where I was sitting. He had bright pink lipstick on and a thick coat of foundation. And suddenly, I realized that I had a new personal motto: “If you shave your face daily, please do not give me makeup advice.”
It might have been tolerable if he had not made me look like a hooker. I was wearing so much makeup that I had to wear my sunglasses inside when we stopped at a grocery store to look at a map and buy some candy to tide us over for the return trip. If you want to feel like a fool, wear your sunglasses inside a dimly lit store and try to find anything. You won’t find it. You will simply wander aimlessly, glad you have a traveling companion who can actually show their face in public.