Beauty Makeover

I recently had a not so great experience at a certain store in the mall that sells all sorts of various body creams, serums and fantastical scented oils. What happened was this: I walked into the store with the idea that I was going to treat myself to a bunch of expensive shit. I had $100 to spend and I wanted to spend it there. Immediately upon walking in, I chose my three items that I wanted fo’ sho’, and put them in a basket. The cost of each item was $18, but they were buy two get one free. Now, when a salesperson sees someone walk into their store and immediately fill up a basket with items, the salesperson should promptly try to get that customer to spend more money: they are clearly in the mood to buy and that mood should be exploited.

Common retail move. 

But, this girl did not come up to me and try to help. In fact, she ignored me. This made me angry. There was no one in the store besides myself and the young woman, so she did not have the excuse of “ohmygodthestoreissobusy” nor did she have the excuse of “I’m helping this person, but I’ll be right with you in just a sec, kay?”

Nope. Bitch just ignored me.

Why does this bother you so much, Amanda? At least she was ignoring you and not trying to sell you a ton of crap you don’t need. At least she wasn’t being pushy. At least you could just shop alone and in peace. Why so grumpy?

Because it was the one time I wanted help and advice from another girl about what was going to smell good and make me look pretty, dammit. And because there are a million people out there who would kill, kill, just to have her shitass retail job in the mall. To be as ignorant and selfish as she was in that moment is to disregard the customer and anyone else who could have had her job, that nasty little shit.

She didn’t just ignore me, she was rude to me when I asked her a question. She seemed inconvenienced by my existence, and I was torn because I didn’t want to buy anything from her, but I did really want to buy things for myself. So, I just spent $70 instead of $100.

I really stuck it to her.

Then what happened? Well, I called and made a complaint, and the manager I spoke to offered me a free beauty makeover for my troubles. So I went in there today and this happened:

daaaamn.

You might not think this looks that bad. Jeff said, “It doesn’t look that bad.” But let me draw your attention to the finer details of this beauty makeover. Notice, if you will, the subtle difference between the pasty white skin of my shoulders and my face, it is something akin to Snowflakes VS. Miami Beach. Gaze into my eyes, tearing up with a vast quantity of eye shadow and liner. Look at my cheeks, bruised with the delicate glow of bronzer. And look at my lips, pink with the rosy gloss of disappointment. Actually, I’m happy about the lips. Those look nice. And you see that smirk on my face? That’s because I’m a smart ass and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this picture the moment Jeff took it.

To be fair to the girl who did my make-up:

• She did it for free.
• I was 20 minutes late because I’m an asshole.
• I told her to “have at it.”
• She took time out of her day and tried to make me look pretty. That’s neat.
• If she was trying to get back at me for making a complaint and being 20 minutes late, then she did a fine job, and her bitchiness should be commended. I really couldn’t have done it better myself.
• She was nice. Even if she was faking it, she still faked it. And that’s sort of what retail is all about.

On the bright side, I’m just about done with In Cold Blood, I’m watching The Adams Family and having fun with my whore-face on. I’m also staring at my used copy of Lonesome Dove that I’m pretty stoked about starting as soon as I get this Truman Capote off my back.

Actually, after watching a few minutes of The Adams Family, I’m realizing how similar my beauty makeover is to Morticia Adams’s everyday make-up.

Rad.