When All That Glitters Turns to Dirty Fingernails

On very rare occasions I go to the mall. I hate the mall. This morning I was there with specific business, but somehow got lured to a makeup kiosk.


It went something like this:


Sales Lady: Here you go, hun (hands me some flyer, which is still in my purse, which I still haven’t looked at).


Me: Oh, thanks (stops to put flyer in purse and starts looking at shiny things in kiosk).


Sales Lady: (Notices I look at shiny things) Do you wear eye shadow? These colors would be perfect for you. (Takes out a Q-tip, grabs my hand, and starts rubbing eye shadows all over the back of my hand).


Before I know it there are six different circles of tans on my hand. She even demonstrated the three different ways each could be applied, with all six. So, what is that…18. Yes, 18 different marks on my hand which hasn’t grown since I was 11.


I want to leave right then, and just spread all the sparkles around. But I can’t help it, I am over powered by the sparkle. The 18 glorious different colors of sparkles all gleaming off my hand.


Sales Lady: Today we have a special- just today is buy two get two free! What-do-ya think about that? What colors do ya like?


She then trailed off about having a headache.


What colors do I like?! What are you talking about?? My entire hand is covered in wonderful glitter! I can’t focus! I LIKE ALL DE COLORS!




Me: Um, I normally like tans.


Sales Lady: Okay, pick two.


I pick two spectacularly tan tans.


Sales Lady: Alright now yer two free ones.


At this point I start to realize I am spending way too much money on eye shadow that I really don’t need, but I am in too deep. I must proceed. And the sparkles! Ah!


I pick two colors which I already own, but these are different I tell myself. These are more like coffee and the others are more like mocha.


Sales Lady: Come over here, hun, and I’ll check you out.


I reluctantly hand my credit card over to this girl who had no makeup on at all, dirty fingernails, and is still muttering about having a headache.


I start to feel good about my four eye shadow purchases. Like I just donated to charity or something. Yes, that’s right, charity. I bet this girl gets commission and will get money from this and will have a great Christmas, and will buy all her family lots of presents…and will clean her nails!


I started to feel awesome! I am doing great things!


She hands me my card back.


Sales Lady: I noticed you have eyeliner on. I really like it (starts walking over to the display).


Me: I slept in it…


Sales Lady: Oh, I see. Well, how about foundation? We have this product that is light, an’ airy…


Then, somehow dirty fingernails has me in the chair. She was going on and on about how this product is perfect for my freckled skin tone and how it is the perfect everyday product.


She is rubbing lotion on my face. I am getting lotioned by a girl with dirty fingernails at a mall kiosk.


Dirty Fingernails: You use foundation?


Me: Uh, not really. I have some but…


Dirty Fingernails: Just think of all dat bacterial you got in that dirty old foundation that you’ve had fur years.


Dirty Fingernails mentioning bacterial has me thinking of when she last washed her hands that are touching my face. I start to panic.


Me: I think you should stop touching me with your bacterial ridden hands!


I fling her dirty lotiony hands away, and free myself from Dirty Fingernails. I run away as fast as I can yelling- “go wash your fingernails!”


The previous sentences are not what happened.


Here’s what really happened:


Dirty Fingernails: Just think of all dat bacterial you got in that dirty old foundation that you’ve had fur years.


Me: Yeah, that’s pretty gross huh… (I can’t concentrate on anything but the dirt in her fingernails and how they are touching my face, and how they have probably touched so many faces…but then I start to think about how I am lucky that it’s morning and I’m the first of all customers today. I’d hate to be Dirty Fingernails’ last face lotion victim).


Dirty Fingernails is trying to place a mirror in front of my face to show me her masterpiece. She had snuck in some sort of foundation powder crap in the lotion she slathered on my face.


“Isn’t that smooth, and just so…” She trails off looking at all the mall walker-byers.


Me: (Looking at only my top right eye, she’s not paying attention to where she points the mirror). Yes, it’s really nice.


Dirty Fingernails: I want you to use this every day. It’s just so much better than dat bacteria yer usin’ now.


Now I’m like strangely defensive. I don’t put bacteria on my face, and so what if I did, Dirty Fingers??? It’s my face. I can do what I want.


I don’t know how such a sparky event turned so horrid but I knew I had to get out. I kind of inchworm-squirmed out of my chair and left with my bag containing $42.89 in eye shadow.