Come here, my pretty

So, I’m walking through Target today looking for some of my household essentials and wandered down the paper towel aisle. Suddenly, a woman said, “excuse me?” I turned around to find someone who’d pushed her cart practically up my ass, which of course, as many of you know, totally violated my comfort zone.

“You’re really pretty,” she says.

Now, immediately, I’m wondering if she’s a lesbian because Seattle seems to be sporting a huge population of this group. Not that there’s anything wrong with it (ala Seinfeld), but it’s just not my style. Not having a ring on my left hand doesn’t help clear up the matter, either.

“Seriously?” I respond. “Well, thanks, I think.”

“You have such a pretty face and beautiful skin. Can I use you for a face model?”

I almost start laughing at this point, but I just raised my eyebrow and asked “for what?”

And so what do you think she’s going to say? You’re probably right, but I didn’t think it would be this obvious.

“I’m a Mary Kay consultant. But, you’re not obligated to buy anything; you can just get a free facial. The make-up colors you’re wearing are perfect for your skin tone, and so are your highlights. Where do you get them done?”

Smoooooth, that one is. I had to give her credit for her courage and approach, and I knew she’d paid a little bit of attention to me, as my skin is the one thing facialists and make-up people have always praised. No, that does not mean I think I’m a 10; it’s just that I’m predicted to be one of those fortunate people that will age slower than some of my peers.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do when Leslie calls me to follow-up, which I’m sure she’ll inevitably do. But, I have to admit that it’s tempting to remain in the illusion that a total stranger stopped to compliment me today just for the Hell of it. You won't think less of me, will you?