Monday, January 7, 2013

A Stranger's Story - Day One

I've realized something.

In the midst of living day to day, I have discovered I have a habit. Perhaps it could be taken as a bad habit. But there's a chance this strange addiction of mine has sparked an idea overflowing with the grandeur of creativity.

I, Taylor, have a habit of people watching.

In fact, not only do I watch people, but I study them. I observe them. I listen. I take in their body language, their facial expressions, their decision of attire, the tapping of their foot and the shortness of their breath. I evaluate. I analyze, inspect and scrutinize. I observe each and every detail my mind can possibly soak in.

Is this a problem? Hmm, possibly.

Do I care?      
                  Not really.

In fact, I think I've actually inspired my own self. Is that allowed? I've not only observed those around me, but i've pondered myself and decided to make something of this slightly creepy habit I've developed.

I am going to choose one person each day. Just one. Someone who has caught my eye, who I have met during my daily activities, or who I randomly remember. The goal is to write for 2 weeks straight.... about strangers.

Want to join me in some daily people-watching?
                        It's fun, I promise.

Day 1

  The store is so large. So spacious, yet so full of shiny, fragrant and girly treasures. Everywhere I turn, my glowing eyes are greeted with all kinds of perfumes, hair products, facial cleansers and puffy little pink wash cloths. 
Everything I see calls out to me......

             "Taylor! Taylor! Buy me! Buy me! Oh, you know you need me."

     "You'll look fantastic and fresh if you use me!"

                     "I'll make you smell like a goddess!"

"Come over here, deary, I'll make your wildest dreams come true."

                                     I am overwhelmed. 

Within the iron grasp of my small, clammy hand is an incredible little piece of plastic - a gift card. An Ulta gift card, to be exact. 

There's countless, amazing things I could purchase. The options are so many I think I'm hyperventilating. 

I wander through the isles - slowly, carefully. I observe each item sitting on the pure, white shelves. I imagine deep in my mind what each product could possibly do for me. This or that, this or that, this....or that. Should I spend this much? Should I use this free money towards something more expensive that I wouldn't normally buy for myself? Should I buy a bunch of smaller items to satisfy my daily needs?

One half of the store is substantially cheaper than the other. One side holds the basic, simple products I've used for years. But, oh! The other side of the store calls out to me in her seductive, silky way. 

The closer I come to the other side, the more everything seems to sparkle. 

It's so beautiful.

But I quickly drag my mind back to the devastating truth..... I only have a certain amount to spend. And I have no idea where to begin with products such as these. I know next to nothing about this gorgeous world of high-end cosmetics.

                         And that is when it happened.

I scanned the giant store for someone to hopefully assist my clueless mind. 

Then I found you.

You were standing there, over a middle-aged woman with pink hair. Your back was to me, but somehow I had a feeling you were going to be pretty. The closer I came, I soon realized what you were doing. 

You were waxing pink-head's eyebrows.  She looked in pain, but trusting towards you.

I cautiously approached, for I dare not intrude on this painful procedure. But you sensed I was there. Or maybe it was the girl's gaze towards me that tipped you off. Either way, you turned around.

In all honesty, my first impression didn't feel very good. You seemed nice, you did. But I think it was your physical appearance that made me feel a bit uneasy. The first detail I noticed, was your black nails. You had short, stylish and slightly punkish, red hair. At first, I thought you might be annoyed that I was interrupting your waxing activities.

But you smiled at me and asked if you could help.

"I just need some help choosing some bare minerals makeup. When you have a moment."

"Okay, I'll be done in just 2 minutes, that okay?", you said so kindly.

"That's quite alright, I'm in no hurry." I did my best to respond just as kind.

      "Well in that case, I'll be 5 minutes."

We both laughed a little. It was more of a giggle on each of our parts.

                      And that's the moment I decided I liked you.

As you began to help me on my venture into choosing a product that was suitable for me, I grew fonder and fonder of you. I already sensed you were a mother - a really good one at that, but what do I know? When you asked me to sit down at the mirror so you could apply a certain brand of makeup, I hesitated. I did this, because I knew that in order to apply new makeup, you were going to remove what I had on my face. That meant that each and every blemish upon my uneven skin would be visible to you... just a a foot away from your eyes.

           I felt so vulnerable.

But I chose to sit down, 
because I knew you were kind.

You spent over a half hour with me. You not only helped me make the best decision for a purchase, but you spent the time to explain, teach and talk with me. You taught me about things I've always wished I knew. You helped me understand my skin, and taught me little tricks I'm sure I'll use every day. 

But not only did you teach me about facials and makeup application, but you shared with me who you were and where you came from. 

I so thoroughly enjoyed learning about your internship with high class makeup artists, your journey from Portland, your ideas and the fact that you like to save money. 

And I was right, you are a mother. A mother of three boys.

My new found friend. You helped me decide on the absolute perfect purchase. And you even convinced the cashier to use a coupon that wasn't valid, just so I could save some extra money.

And before I said goodbye, we hugged. 

You told me to come back soon, even just to visit and I agreed easily. I left that store without that magical piece of money-containing plastic, and left with a warmed heart and a new friend. 

                     The new things I bought were just a bonus.

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