My birthday was fun, May 24th. It happened to be on a Saturday and so I went with hubby to GNC for vitamins - then we went to lunch at Nori Nori in Atlanta - interesting concept of sushi and really good Asian dishes buffet style. Food was good. I enjoyed the large fish tank at the entrance, And we moved on to shop - which brings me to to the point of this post.
We went to Lenox Square. Hubby went one way - to the Apple Store - I went another. I was wandering around in Macy's kind of in a daze. I was trying to find a casual dress or two. It is not easy at my age. I'm not trying to look younger than I am by allowing more skin to show than prudent, nor have I completely given up, but back to the wandering. I turned to go another direction and there, standing in front of me was a tall, elegant African American woman, dressed in a black pants suit, closely cropped hair, with the most enormous pair of thickly framed eyeglasses I have ever seen in my life. Towering over me, I was prey. I was also mesmerized by the glasses. Perhaps it was a tactic. She held a can of Dior face makeup in her hand and asked me something about make up. I can't remember what exactly she said, the spell of the glasses held me and somehow I found myself following her through the store to what I now know was her cave, disguised like a chair. I sat, foggy headed and dazed by eye wear. I think the initial question she asked me in the store aisle had to do with the product in her hand, but somehow as I sat there I agreed to a full facial. I still don't know why I was so weak.
It began. My face was cleansed, then layer on layer of Dior product was applied. Cleanser, anti-everything cream - (at my age I guess I shouldn't be surprised) - then eyebrow pencil, eyeliner, layers of eye everything, four kinds of stuff for lips - all the while other Dior employees drifting by to gaze upon my lovely face to declare an awesome transformation. My captor told me I could not look until she was completely done. She "never let's her clients look at her artistry until complete".
Finally done. She leads me to a full length mirror near her station and I finally get to see...a clown! Simply MB was staring at a clown. Where did those eyebrows come from!? Behind me stood the tall, elegant enormous eye glassed proponent of Dior products large and small and I just stood there and...lied. "Oh how lovely"! Not.
Back to the chair. A sinking feeling as product after product is presented to me being pulled from a hidden location near the cave chair. I ask how much. I feel trapped. I feel obligated. I feel miserable.
After discovering that she is trying to sell me over $1,000.00 worth of product - which surprises me because I wasn't dressed like that would be an easy purchase - but then again maybe something about me singled me out - like the wounded animal in the herd - I try to get out of there as quickly and as inexpensively as I can without looking like I am without the means to buy anything. Maintain my dignity in it all, you know. I purchase a few basic skin care items and leave. And as I walked away rubbing my eyebrows with saliva wet fingers to remove the pencil applied to my poor pitiful eyebrows, I looked back and I know I saw her yawn with sleepiness. Like after a big meal.
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