A college friend named “Judith” texted to invite me to what she called a ‘free spa day’ she’d won on a bridal website. She wasn’t a close friend, but I had fun on the times we did spend together, so I happily replied that I was looking forward to it. It was a little disappointing, therefore, when I mentioned it to my mom later that day, and was informed that those things were usually just Mary Kay or the like trying to sell products. I passed the information along to Judith, thinking she must be unaware, but she replied, “Oh, I know.” If she knew, why didn’t she tell me that to begin with, instead of calling it a “spa day”? I’d already agree to go, and thought that at least I’d get to spend time with my friend, so I didn’t cancel. But it’s important to know that I don’t wear any makeup at all, and Judith knows this.
So I got to the Mary Kay building on the appropriate day, and, in addition to our group, there was another small table of people with us in the tiny room, which made it difficult to really chat. The people in Judith’s group were herself, her mom, me, and another girl, who, it turns out, also never wears makeup. In fact, this other girl actually shared my skin condition of mild eczema. (Judith had known this girl since elementary school, so surely she knew about the eczema.) Which means that the two people Judith thought would be most appropriate to invite to a Mary Kay spiel were two girls who never wear makeup and had skin that would probably be sensitive to some of the other products that were being tried on (moisturizer and such). Trying to be a good sport, I did try a bit of the first product on my hand, and immediately got a stinging flare up because of it. I declined trying anything after that, and ended up leaving early.
I felt really rude, especially to the Mary Kay girl (who was very nice the whole time and didn’t try to push products that might upset my skin), but I’d already been there for an hour and a half and had another commitment. And really, after an hour and a half they’d only gotten through about a quarter of the “makeover”, so it was a bit of a relief. (Oh, and this isn’t really a faux pas, but Judith had signed up as a “bride” and kept talking about the makeover being a bridal event. She’d been “engaged” for seven years–since she was 15–and didn’t even plan on setting a date for at least a few more years yet. My own wedding was to be in a month; I didn’t bring it up at the makeover, because I didn’t want it to look like I was upstaging the “bride”, but it would have been nice if Judith had at least asked about it once the entire time.) 0307-10