Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Ryhmes With Larry Jay

Last week I was having lunch with my mom when this perky little thing approached our table.

Excuse me, she sang, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy but my friend and I over there were talking about how gorgeous your eyes are!

Thank you, I said, that’s very nice of you.

Well I was just wonderin’ if you would be interested in helpin’ me out? I need a face model…

Now, flattering as that was, I was skeptical to say the least. As much as I’d like to claim that people stop me in restaurants all the time to tell me how pretty my eyes are, they don’t. So I wasn’t quite ready to run home and tell all my friends how I’d just gotten discovered at the Golden Rule BBQ and that at 41 my modeling career was finally going to be launched…

What do you want me to do? I asked Perky.

Well we would just do your makeup and take your pitcher.

I told her I didn’t mind but that I lived in a different city.


Omahgaaawd! Me toooo! (Apparently we weren’t just neighbors we were also soul mates) Would you mind givin’ me your phone number?

She handed me a business card. The card was not from a famous modeling agency, but from a cosmetics company famous for its in-home parties.

She leaves the table with the promise of calling me the next day. When she does call, it’s more flattery. I thank her again and then ask what it is she wants me to do. She says she can come to my house or I can meet her at her “training center.” I say I prefer to meet her. We agree on a day and time, but before the conversation ends I tell her that I have no problem helping her out if she needs to demonstrate her products, but that I am not in the market to purchase anything.

Oh, noooo! You’d be helping me soooo much! She is singing again.

Fine. We end the conversation with pleasantries and her promise of a goody bag for me for my troubles.

So last night was the night. I arrived at the designated time and was shown into a room in which every piece of furniture had been covered with pink leopard print material and its walls adorned with pictures of women driving pink Cadillacs. Perky sits me down at one end of the table and starts opening her case full of cosmetics. Meantime, a group of women who all know each other also come in and sit at the table. The other women are asked to fill out a card while my hostess assembles a few items in front of me. She also tells me that she has a gift card for me for “helping” which sounds promising for a moment. There is another version of Perky in the room who is dealing with the rest of the group. At this point the little faith I have that I am going to be the subject for the demonstration quickly disappears when Perky announces that she will be back a little later and that I should just follow Perky Two’s instructions.

So for an hour I sit and follow my cleansing, exfoliating, moisturizing and application

directions. When we were done, Perky reappeared with some of her colleagues and addressed the group. Other than not being allowed to ask her weight (who the hell would?) we were told we could ask whatever we wanted to know about her and her job. The more questions we asked the more raffle tickets we would get in order to win a free eye shadow. (A $6.50 value!) Out of the dozen or so people in the room, myself and one other person asked questions and I was The Big Eye Shadow Winner. So I would get that along with my “gift card.” The demonstration was over once The Other Perky announced that we could own the items demonstrated to us for a mere $189.

My Perky then presented me with a brochure listing items beginning at $48. (For the record, my skin care regime is generic apricot scrub and Dove lot
ion) I asked what else she might have that wasn’t quite so expensive. She said that she had a bunch of eye shadow or she could get her other case with other cosmetics in it out of her car. When I told her I did like the eye shadow that was used in the demonstration, she said that those were $10 because they were crème, but that I could get both colors with my gift card if I liked. I said fine, I would. I asked about the lip gloss. She told me that’s $13. Thirteen effing dollars for lip gloss? Never mind, I’ll get me a tub of Vaseline and some glitter and my lips will shine just the same. She again presented me with the brochure and a selection of non-crème eye shadow. As pretty as colors like violet and navy are, I am not wearing them on my face. Finally I said that since I’d only used $20 of the $25 gift card and I’d won an eye shadow, (a $6.50 value!) why didn’t she just let me get the lip gloss and I’d be on my way. After some hesitation she agreed, but not before she asked me if I’d help her again.

I think I will stick with my routine the way it is. Maybe she’ll discover someone else at Golden Corral.

4 comments:

Merle Sneed said...

These Mary Kay folks have a list of tricks a mile long. Best wishes.

Mr. Poopie said...

The nerve. What has the world come to where we can't just enjoy a moderately edible buffet in peace?

Elliott said...

The Mary Kay's are crazy. My wife actually programmed her cell phone to read "Crazy Lady" whenever the nutjob would call, just to avoid talking to her.

Before we were married, Lori 'won' a 'makeover' from another MK rep. She showed up afterward looking like...well...remember the Simpsons episode where Homer invents the makeup gun, and Marge insists he has it set on 'whore'? Um, yeah.

Thanks for enduring this so we could have a chuckle.

Tuzon said...

fear the pink caddy.