Yesterday, twenty minutes from Kings Cross, I decided a bit of makeup application wouldn't go amiss. Had been as white as a sheet all day from being sleepy/having a pale face, and thought it a reasonable thing to do as I had to briefly pop into work, which has an image focus.
Imagine my surprise at being tapped on the shoulder by a slightly rotund male, I'd say circa 35, with a cap with 'Barcelona' emblazoned all over it like some sort of lurid verbal festoon, and those mirrored sunglasses...not an ultra-cool aviator style pair, but those plastic ones your brother had when you were little - slightly orange tint on the mirror. So, Mr. Mirror taps me on the shoulder and, I kid you not, this is what went down;
Man; "excuse me, did you do chemistry in school?"
Me; "yes..."
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift"
Me; "sorry...what?"
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift...makeup is fucking disgusting"
Me; "well..I like it. So I'm going to keep putting it on"
Man; "you'll wake up in 20 years covered in spots"
Me; "that's fine. I live for now, and right now I want to put this on my face"
AND THIS IS ALL BIZARRE...BUT WAIT
Man; "was that a Californian twang?"
Me; "what?"
Man; "if you want to live in a plastic world, maybe you should move to California"
And I got a bit petulant and said (in my best adolescent voice, might I add)
"MAYBE I WILL".
And thus ended the dialogue. Very strange. Cue sympathetic looks from women around me, and sideways glances at the outspoken male.
It DID get me thinking about how many products I use. Not that I, in any way, have any intention of cutting down my use of products. I love them, creams that smell nice and tanning products that help me look less albino. I simply have no complaints.
So, reader, have a grainy phone picture of my bathroom shelf, and join me in lamenting the fact that there's an empty shelf above. Might nip out to Boots, actually.
beijos
2 comments:
do you have a computer mouse in your bathroom?
that's my invisalign case
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