On Saturday, Lobsterclaw and I headed out for a much-needed “adventure” — whenever we leave the house, things typically go wrong so we’ve labeled them “adventures” instead of “disasters” — to a MAC counter for the master class. Due to forces beyond our control, we arrived fashionably late by twenty minutes. Not only that but they had us down for the 3 PM class instead of the 11 AM class that I had woken up early for on a Saturday. Fortunately, they stashed two chairs towards the back and we sat in on the rest of the class.

A lot of it was basic, some of it was new technique but, at the end of it, they had sold me on a few products. Like fire engine red lipstick with a liner to match. (I figure, I’ve already got a plethora of bright funky eyeshadows, why not start in on lipsticks?) My eyes glazed over for much of the talks, instead concentrating on the women (and one man) seated around me. Now, I’m not a professional but some of these girls had no idea what they were doing, despite the live demonstration right in front of them. One girl was caking on the highly-pigmented eyeshadows with a blending brush; another had dark teal and black eyeshadow shoveled onto her eyelids and was determinedly applying red lipstick.

Eventually, the class ended and we were loosed upon the counter to peruse the products and basically buy whatever they could sell us.

Cue my moment of super fabulous:

A blonde girl approaches me while I’m looking over blotting powders and the first words out of her mouth were, “I’m sorry about your rat!” Apparently, this was more than my intellect could manage as I tried to rack my brain as to who this was. I’m terrible at remembering people so I floundered, assuming this was somebody that I knew but couldn’t place, my jaw gaping open and a look of utter panic flashing across my face. She gracefully overlooked my utter ineptitude: “I’m Heather, from pinkishly.”

Not only had she mentioned being at that class but I had reminded myself earlier that morning, amidst the chaos of getting out the door on time, to look for her. Duh! BRAIN FTW.

Also? My first blogging buddy!

And can I say that she is super sweet? And really nice? And just as addicted to cosmetics? We chatted for a little bit before she was dragged away by the persistent sales associates looking to cash her out and be rid of the mob; Lobsterclaw and I went back to coveting our beloved cosmetics. Of course, it took us a good twenty minutes just to get checked out because apparently, signing two people up for the class at once was more than they could handle and OMG WANT TO LEAVE. I have never been so desperate to leave a MAC counter. Except the one time I got my Halloween make-up done there and everyone was pointing and staring at me.

While I was waiting for Lobsterclaw, I was perusing the perfume counter simply because it was there and this little old lady working the counter came up to me.

Little Old Lady: “Are you doing okay?”
Me: “I am, thank you. Just looking.”
LOL: “If you need anything, let me know.”
Me: “I will.” [polite smile]
I looked for a couple more minutes, then went around the corner of the counter to look at the other side.
LOL: “Are you doing okay?”
Me: “Yes, thank you.”
LOL: “If you need anything, let me know.”
Me: “Umm. Okay. Thank you.”
A couple minutes go by and she approaches me again and gives me the same greeting. Afterwards, she just stands there staring at me. I shift over a couple of paces and she mirrors my movements from the other side of the counter. Amused, I whip around the corner and she follows me with some crazy old lady speed. I shuffle all the way over back to Lobsterclaw, completing the loop around the counter, and the little old lady follows me, standing behind Lobsterclaw’s cashier for a moment before pattering on to the next customer.

Okayyyy.

And, because our “adventure” simply couldn’t end well, I came home to realize my Russian Red lip gloss was, in fact, a tube of clear lip gloss. Sighhhh. So now I have to drive all the way back out there to do an exchange, at which point they’ll probably tell me they’re sold out and I just might impale myself on a couple mascara wands.

Filed under: beauty, weekends