Meg (talking to a customer about a new concealer):…So, Mrs. Jones; the easiest way to blend this in is to lightly pat it with your fangers.
Katryna (cleaning the brushes across from Meg): “Fangers?”
Meg looks at Katryna, she is confused.
Katryna: You just said FANGers.
Meg: That’s how you say it…fang-gers.
Katryna: No, dude. It’s FIN-gers
The client is laughing at us because of Meg’s innocently confused face. Meg continues with the client until the aesthetician walks out and collects the pleasantly plump Mrs. Jones. She was in desperate need of a brow wax. Meg turns to me and says:
Meg: How do you say it then?
Katryna (sighs): Ok, ok let’s do this together. Repeat after me…fin
Katryna: Ok dude, alright…fangers it is.
One day at the counter:
It was slow when I walked through the door with a gigantic cup of coffee in my freezing hands. 10 am to be exact. The red wine on my dress was making the light blue flowers look purple on the right side of my dress. Tired, and hung over, I clocked in. I dragged my feet on the marble floors of the department store. Different genres of music were stabbing my ears from every angle. Typical department store sounds. All of the other cosmetics counters were preparing their surrounding areas for different events. My head was throbbing, and the gravitational pull from the ground beneath my feet was 1000 times stronger than the day before. I tripped on the corner of my hot pink counter, and spilled hot coffee down the front of my dress. Grrr. Before I had time to recover, one of the first of the buzzing, shopping bag ladies asks me how much it would be to do her makeup. I recognized her red permed hair, and her neon pink nail polish. She was the one that likes bright orange lip-stick and talks about nothing but her maltese. I told her that I wouldn’t mind doing a couple of things here and there for free. She drops all of her shopping bags (the store had only been open for half an hour) and immediately starts chattering away while I picked out a few eye shadows. 20 minutes and a full face of makeup later, the crazy looks in the mirror and gushes about how much she loves everything that I put on her. My eyes feel like they are going to fall out of my head, and she still talks about her maltese. I try to laugh at her “jokes” but I sounded like a frog during mating season. Katie prances to my side of the counter, and chatters away in her high pitched-squeaky-hungover me’s-worst nightmare, voice. I don’t understand a word, and nod my head, and continue grabbing the crazy’s favorite products. After about an hour of this, I ran off for a fifteen, drank a couple of coffees and survived the rest of the day pulling through the rest of the crazies. Going out for a nice yummy drink soon…and a pack of gummy bears, maybe two.