Normally I'm a kick back, relaxed kind of chica but I must admit there are times when something quite frightening happens to me. I know what you're thinking and no, it has nothing to do with drinking tall glasses of milk or eating ice cream cones. When I hear about people being mistreated, especially people I know and love, my lovely straight teeth turn into vicious fangs and I become feral. Don't mess with the Breezy Bitch!
As I mentioned earlier, I'm normally very calm that is, until I'm crossed with someone being mistreated or, God forbid, I'm given some sort of attitude. Attitude. Why? Why the attitude? Is it really necessary?
Why do perfume sprayers look down their noses at people? Is it because they can't stand the stink of what they're spraying? I can understand that but don't you dare do it because you believe you're a stinky ounce more important than the lady walking past you looking exhausted with twins in a stroller. Why do hostesses, let me repeat this...hostesses...act like their jobs are far superior than the people who are standing before them? Make-up counter assistants - assistants - this word in itself means that they assist.
And about these make-up counter assistants - please for the love of God and everything that is beautiful - wipe that crud off of your face and walk towards me like you're actually interested in selling me something. Oh, and don't even offer to put that stuff on me. I have a perfectly lovely complexion from years of not wearing that garbage, thank you very much. On a final note assistants, when I buy that single tube of lipstick, you can also wipe off that pouty look along with the two inches of concealer which is not doing a good job in hiding your disdain. Perhaps had you walked a little faster, been a little nicer, and let's face it - not startled me so much with those over arched eyebrows - I might had considered purchasing the matching lip liner. Completely your loss in a $3.00 commission. Big day for you considering all the women I see lining up to shop at make-up counters.
Whoa, Nellie! Somewhere between here and my first paragraph I stepped on a soap box. I must say, I'm really impressed because I was never very good at multi-tasking...standing, typing, thinking, complaining, etc. I do believe I've gotten better at it. Time to sit back in my chair and focus on being a kick back, relaxed kind of chica. I think I like her better but she still won't wear a lot of make-up so don't even offer to put that crud on her face.