Last week my friend Tracey and I decided to go out for happy hour. For those of you who don’t know Tracey- she is my friend who used to live across the street from me growing up. We would play normal childhood games like tag, tv tag (which is where when you’re about to get tagged, you squat down and shout out a tv show- needless to say I rocked at this), and our favorite- Old Man Marley, which consisted of Tracey, her sister, my sister, and myself walking halfway down the block around twilight to a house that had a big pine tree. As we inched closer to the scary house, one of us would shriek “Old Man Marley!” and run for our lives. Clearly this explains why both of us ended up in some form of marketing career- we were creative geniuses before the age of 10.
Anywho, so Tracey actually ended up having an opportunity to get a free makeover after work on the day we were to go out, to which she kindly invited me along to. Free makeover? And drinks afterward? On a weekday? Sign me up please!
This was pretty brave of me on my part to agree to, because despite the fact that I am no pro at makeup rules, I have received a free makeover before, and it was not good. It was at the mall and I was by myself on a last minute dash to find a birthday gift for AC Slater. (But if you mention this to him, tell him I plan out his gifts MONTHS in advance). It was in Carson’s and the makeup line was specifically designed for African American women. As someone who has used the phrase “white-out white” to describe my complexion, and whose doctor last week insisted on letting me know that I have verrrrrryyyy fair skin (give it to me straight doc- I”m a freakin’ ghost!) I still do not exactly know why these women chose me. They were super nice and smart about make up rules, but the colors they chose were for women with pigment, which I posses none of. Needless to say I looked….well I looked like I should have been wearing fishnets and whistling at BMWs.
So, we venture out to the free makeup, and I am in hopes that I turn out nothing like the picture above. We meet up in the midst of a nice steady rain, which soaked us to the very core. Poor Tracey had to practically lead me down Michigan Avenue because as many of you know, if even the slightest wind passes by, my eyes tear up as if I’m watching The Notebook and I am instantly blinded. So here we are, in the rain, umbrellas flipping around, pants getting soaked, shoes getting soggy, and what happens next? My stupid shopping bag made of stupid recyclable paper DISINTEGRATES somewhere between Monroe and VanBuren. I have to pick up what’s left of the bag, along with my belongings, and clutch onto them while attempting to still hold my umbrella. It was at this time I’m CERTAIN Tracey was thrilled she invited me- that is until we went into CVS. With no shame left whatsoever, I walked up to the self check out, plopped my soaking wet items onto the counter, and began shoving things in the plastic, non-biodegradable bags. People were surely staring and I bet poor Tracey wanted to get rid of me right there, but she probably felt bad for leaving a blind, soaked bag lady in the middle of CVS without at least pointing me in the direction of the nearest train, so she let me continue to follow.
The rest of the adventure was quite pleasant, and needless to say I was in desperate need of a makeover. Although I’m sure the lady who was showing us the make up tips cringed when she saw me, donned in a drenched outfit and all signs of makeup fleeing from my face due to the constant tearing from the stupid wind, but it was a good time. (Although, I can probably never enter that CVS again).