Searching for the perfect lipstick is like searching for the holy grail. When I was a sophomore in college I happened to find this beautiful holy grail in the shape of an Almay lipstick. It was a fluke--it was just helplessly tossed aside in a clearnace bin at Kmart. As an employeed, I was digging through the bins in an effort to keep them looking slightly less disheveled than they looked from the hoards of rude customers. The shininess of the case drew me to it. Then the color sucked me in. I tested it on my pinky, my wrist, anything that looked like it could indicate that this would be a good color for me. It worked on every body part I tried. And it was on clearance for $3. It was my lucky day. Almay lipstick #50 was my holy grail. And the day I lost it, I wept. When I went to look for a replacement, I couldn't find one. Almay #50 was nowhere to be found in the UP. Or in any retail chain downstate for that matter. I'd given up hope of finding my precious accessory ever again after hunting for a new one for a solid year.
And then....randomly wandering through Walmart today, I saw the Almay display. I scanned it, as was habit at this point. And I saw it. #50. My color! MY COLOR!
Walmart is the new place of miracles, yo.
I bummed around with my darling sister today. We did lunch and she decided to ditch class and tag along on my Walmart excursion.
Today's lesson: don't EVER shop with my sister. You'll end up spending $30 on stuff you don't need. Like bath fizzies and stickers. And cute underwear. And a new purse. Katy is such an enabler. And I'm so weak for falling to her persuasive powers. My stuff is really cute, though.
While at the Chinese buffet, we had a little banter going. It was the usual banter...
Me: Why don't you shut up?
Katy: why don't YOU?
Me: Because I'm older and I said so.
Katy: That's a shitty excuse. I ain't listening to your shit.
Me: YOU'RE shit!
Katy: Nuh. Uh. You're shit. And I'm skipping class because I want to shop with you.
Me: That's bullshit.
Katy: You're bullshit.
(We are the epitome of family values.)
As this banter plays out, we're filling our plates with Chinese delights. I shouted my last "bullshit!" as I was grabbing chopsticks and heading to my seat. As Katy was hollering her last vulgar retorts, a old woman sidled up beside her to grab some kung pao. The woman clicked her tongue at Katy and gave her a disgusted look. She then said "exCUSE ME!" and harumphed off to her seat.
Katy, darling. You got served. By an old woman. And I didn't.
Later at Walmart, I turned into the beauty section and saw an old woman grabbing facial cream. She started talking to me about how she was going to get two of them since it was "fucking cheaper here than in my fucking hometown." She went on to say that it was "bullshit that they want us to shop hometown but the prices are twice as fucking high there. That's bullshit!" She breathlessly concluded.
In that moment I glimpsed my future. I shall be the potty-mouthed old woman shopping for Oil of Olay. I hope I can still find my Almay #50 lipstick when I'm her age.
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~