First thing this morning my daughter asks for a banana. No problem. I got them on my fast dash to Target last night. I remember the girl asked if I wanted to keep the CUTIES box or just a bag. Bag it. Come on I only have 6 more minutes to get back to picking my son up from his gymnastics class.
I go to get the banana for my daughter and think WTF? Oh sh*t, I must've left them in the car. I look and crap, they aren't under the seat. No not anywhere. Call Target. Yes ma'am (ma'am??). I have a record of bananas and clementines. Just come back blah blah bullsh*t. I decide I don't look thhhaaat bad in my flannel pj bottoms and hair up in a "pebbles" pony tail and race out to pick up my goods. Its 8 am. I still have yesterdays makeup remnants on. I only thought I was dropping off at the bus stop this morning!
So I say a little prayer hoping I don't see anybody I know, phew, because I hate this look I'm trying to work like a teenager. Well, I soon realized as I was walking up to and into the store, that even in my old crusty makeup and last night's jammies, I was clearly the most attractive person there. Scary!!! I held my head a little higher and added a bounce to my step as I went up to the customer service desk. Holy mother f*cking lord am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing? The chick at the desk has her back to me, only momentarily, but still I got a good enough glimpse of what was holding her hair back. Yes b*tches, It was a f*cking BANANA CLIP! Holy Sh*t, a banana clip. Imagine my shock at seeing that thing, "blingy" no less, creating the long, thin, fanned out ponytailish thing that was oh so popular in the late '80's. As I was trying to catch my breath and recover from my shock, the customer service rep. turned around. Well f*ck me, this woman was wearing more make up than Tammy Faye Baker, Marliyn Manson, and the chick from "The Drew Carey Show" combined. I wanted to sprint home and buy stock in Maybelline or Wet 'n Wild, since I'm guessing their stocks went through the roof because of the monstrosity standing before me. I'm talking pancake foundation, china blue eyeliner allllll around the eyes, black gloppy mascara, and pinky pink blush that looked like it was applied with a f*cking bingo stamper. Oh and of course she had penciled on eyebrows, in a perfect rainbow shape above each eye, about four shades darker than her hair. It took a sh*tload of restraint, but I didn't open my big mouth to explain to her just what a f*cking freak show disaster she was. I took a deep breath, asked for my clementines and bananas and left.
I walked out of there thinking "did that really just f*cking happen?" In the four minutes it took me at Target, I witnessed possibly the worst beauty blunder of my life. As I sat in my car I wondered, did I do her a disservice by not sharing my insights with her, and helping her master the technique of cosmetic application? Or was it best to keep my trap shut and allow her to continue on in her own clueless world, getting the sh*t ripped out of her behind her back for countless years to come? One thing I do know, is that I am truly the b*tchiest of the b*tches, because as I sit here writing this, every once in a while I shudder at the thought of the abomination that I observed, and then begin to laugh out loud at how fricking funny the whole thing was!!! Keep smiling b*tches...and don't forget...less is more!