Attack Of The Killer Cosmetics Saleslady
THE STORY YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS TRUE. ONLY THE NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE OVER-ZEALOUS.
This is the big box store. Sam’s Wholesale Club. I shop here. I carry a membership card. My name is Dad. NukeDad. It was a warm spring morning in the Carolinas. The kind of morning that makes you wish you’d stayed in college. Then you’d be in a swanky office building checking out the gams on the new dame taking shorthand for the boss. Instead you’re pulling grocery duty on the far side of town. The building was clean. Freshly painted. I notice things like that. It’s my job. Wait; no it isn’t. I don’t have a job. Not one that pays cold hard Benjamin’s, anyway. The carts were lined up like shining steel horses itching to join the battle. I picked a maverick looking loner hanging out by the flatcars. I’d need that kind of attitude with the list I had today.
I flashed my membership card at the receipt jockey standing in the foyer. A quick squint and a nod and I was on my way. Frozen foods was on the far side of the store. A good place for them, since I’d be stopping there last. Blocking my way was a wall of Plasma TV’s. 42 inch. 50 inch. 65 inch. Mocking me. Every last one of them. Not on a stay-at-home gumshoe’s pay, I thought. I steered my cold blue steel steed around the mountain of frivolity and headed for the paper aisle. Charmin makes a good product. You’re either built for comfort, or you’re built for speed. Charmin’s got you covered either way. I grabbed a 36 pack of Ultra-Soft. Guy’s like me can’t afford to chafe. I was set for the week. I made my way to the pallets that were lining the side aisle like hedges on Mulholland Drive. The spacing perfect. Almost too perfect. Someone here can handle a pallet jack like it’s an Alfa-Romeo on the 405 at rush hour. Bravo Mr. Associate, bravo. I rounded the last pallet with the speed and grace of a gazelle eluding a hungry lioness on the Serengeti when I saw her. Her over-crimped hair hanging like so much busted plumbing. Her eye shadow thicker than a college textbook. Her lipstick three shades darker than that swirly spot on Jupiter. It was the Make-up Lady.
I braked hard and banked left, but it was too late. The jig was up. She’d seen me. Like a grasshopper that ventures too close to the slumbering toad, I was mince meat. “Special lady in you life?” she beckoned from her lair. “Special lady?”, I thought. Crafty; this one. She left every option open. A wife? A mistress perhaps? Or maybe a man who just likes to try on lingerie and play dress-up on even numbered Wednesdays during months that end in Y or R while the family is away. Shut up, it’s a case report I read once. I told her yes; my wife, and she dove right in. My mount was skittish and refused to move. I was stuck. Through the Initial Contact, at least. The words were flying at me faster than ladies underwear at a Poison concert. I heard words like; exfoliate, microdermabrasion and glazing. Blusher, emulsion and putty. The last bringing visions of nail holes I’d repaired on the front porch railing, wondering why I would ever want to see it on or near my wife’s face. My breathing was rapid. My heart increased its pace by five beats a minute. My four wheeled stallion continued to buck and fight me at every turn. I glanced down at its hoof and saw the scoundrel. In her zeal to close a previous sale the Serial Rouger had lost a cap from a lipstick barrel. It was holding me prisoner. The wheel was locked up tighter than Kate Moss’ lips in a donut factory. I stepped back and yanked with all my might. The cap shattered like Roseanne Barr’s dreams of a comeback. I tipped my fedora and said good day.
I made my escape through the book section and ended up in C-storeville. If I owned a convenience store, Sam’s would be…well, convenient. Having no need for a 72 pack of Snickers bars in a counter-top display box, I ventured over to the fruits and vegetables. I grabbed a 12-pack of garlic cloves and a gross of oranges. Hey, they were on sale. As I came around the cooler I heard it. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “Special lady in your life?” I whipped around too quickly for her frail mind to comprehend and she screamed. “Oh! I’ve talked to you already, haven’t I?” she managed. I nodded and she turned tail and power walked to an elderly couple perusing the 5 gallon tubs of potato salad. She’d left her kiosk and taken her show on the road. Tenacious, that’s what she was; pure, unadulterated foundation-hawking tenacity. A shoebox full of moxie cleaned out of a closet of stick-to-itiveness and tossed in a heap of doggedness. The girl wouldn’t take no for an answer. I made my way to the parking lot and was loading my items into the van. I heard that familiar voice again. I looked up just in time to see the Lip Balmed Avenger accosting a lady who only had one leg out of her car. Even on lunch break it was like shooting fish in a barrel for her. She’ll never stop. She’s like luggage; she’s with you for life. I wonder how much a membership to Costco is?
SurprisedMom
Oh God! How funny! How awful! Sales is not a job for the faint of heart and your reaction is not uncommon. I abhor sales. I hate being accosted as I shop even more. Unfortunately, as a cashier in a large department store, the powers that be insist that we also be salespeople. They want us to sell credit cards. They want us to solicit emails. They don’t want us to take no for answer. I do. I ask, once, and if the answer is no, I DO. NOT. PUSH. I am a failure as a salesperson. There’s too much of me that remains on the other side of the counter. Nuke Dad, I would have tried to run her over with the cart.
(NukeDad) If I’d thought I could get away with it, I would have. But she was quick, and I was afraid the cart and I would fall into the huge abyss that was her mouth. She wouldn’t shut up.
SurprisedMoms last blog post..Moving Forward
Apr 29, 2009 @ 4:50 am
WeaselMomma
ROFL, That was great.
You didn’t let her make you feel pretty?
(NukeDad) After the eye-liner I looked too much like Tim Curry in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, so I ran.
WeaselMommas last blog post..Out To Lunch
Apr 29, 2009 @ 4:56 am
seashore
What a great blog today! Loved it!
BTW: If you gained any insights into the moisturizing, microderm, etc. do share – because I sure don’t get it!
(NukeDad) I’m still not 100% on it, but I think if you allow them to scrape off 1/2 of your face with some of their products, you’ll then have a need for the rest of their products to cover it up.
seashores last blog post..Quest on Hold
Apr 29, 2009 @ 11:09 am
Matt
Awesome. Absolutely awesome. I can almost hear her now…outside my window. Oh my god, she really IS outside my window!
(NukeDad) Maybe you could use some exfoliating mask cream to help you while you sleep!
Matts last blog post..Shock and Awe
Apr 29, 2009 @ 12:27 pm
tom
That was really well done! I could hear Joe Friday’s voice throughout the narration. Bravo Mr. blogger man, bravo.
(NukeDad) Thanks, Tom. At least it wasn’t Clarence the kleptomaniac from Cleveland copping his copper clappers.
toms last blog post..Heavy Problems
Apr 29, 2009 @ 1:28 pm
Otter
Great post. There is no hope for anyone when the cosmetics lady is accosting men. I am now afraid to leave the house.
(NukeDad) Some of them are like chihuahua’s; they just keep nipping at your heels.
Otters last blog post..Kissing Mommy
Apr 29, 2009 @ 3:51 pm
Mike
Did you tell her “Just the facts, ma’am.”?
I’m beginning to think you have a negative attitude towards makeup. Lip gloss is what makes the world go around, just ask any of my three daughters….
(NukeDad) Do you know that he actually never used that line in the show? It’s a myth. He had lines close to that, but not those exact words. If your daughters need a deal on lip gloss, I know this lady….
Mikes last blog post..Common Sense?
Apr 30, 2009 @ 5:54 pm
Melisa
First of all, I’m with Tom. I totally had Joe Friday reading that in my head.
That was one of the funniest posts you’ve EVER done. And I’m not just saying that because I’m almost a week late on reading the entire thing and commenting. No, not at all. It was freakin’ funny.
That said, had that crazy cosmetics rep approached me in the store where I shop, I would have totally expected it because as you know, I attract weird circumstances in the grocery store. For someone to walk up to me at my Meijer store and imply that I’m a lesbian in need of a gift…wouldn’t even phase me.
Good stuff!
(NukeDad) Ha! Thanks, Melisa! With your luck, she probably would have tried to touch your meat too. Of course, if you’re going to start playing for the other team, then that might be something to look forward to!
Melisas last blog post..Now THIS Is A "Fear" I Can Definitely Conquer.
May 04, 2009 @ 10:23 pm
Karen
This was hilarious! If you are a good actor without too many scruples you could start fake crying and tell her NukeMom passed away in a freak accident involving mascara… Anther SAHD blogger used that (minus the mascara part) at dunkin donuts because he was annoyed at the people saying his fussy kid wanted her mommy and being condescending.
(NukeDad) Who was it? That is sheer brilliance!
Karens last blog post..Pray for Dakota
May 24, 2009 @ 11:22 am
Karen
It is Brian: http://www.lookydaddy.com/weblog/ he is hilarious, though sadly his eldest is going through tough times dealing with epilepsy (a “mild” form). He does inhabit the opposite end of the political spectrum but no one’s perfect
(NukeDad) Thanks, Karen; I’ll check him out. Opposite political ends don’t bother me until they want me to pay for silly, unneeded stuff.
Karens last blog post..Pray for Dakota
May 25, 2009 @ 1:30 am