Thank you annoying kiosk lady for reminding me to exfoliate and buff my nails.
Several months ago I was enjoying a day of shopping at the mall with my daughter. We had made our way through to the other end of the mall when a text message came from my husband, who had tagged along with us that day. He’d sent me a picture of a skeleton sitting on a bench in a mall. He was implying that it was him waiting for us. Why did we take him along with us in the first place?
We decided to take pity on him and began making our way back to the other end of the mall where he was at.
As we turned a corner, my daughter said, “Is that lady speaking to us?”
What lady? And then I saw her, our eyes locked, and it was too late, she reeled us into her awaiting kiosk. My daughter later apologized for her mistake. Maybe it was my fault for not instructing her better on avoiding the hazards of the mall. Never, never look a kiosk salesperson in the eyes! Keep your eyes averted and become deaf to their siren’s call.
She was Romanian and had that classic vampire look. Okay, maybe she wasn’t from Romania and maybe she wasn’t a vampire. She did speak with an accent and had a bloodthirsty look in her eyes. She was going in for the kill, or sale…whatever.
She grabbed me roughly by the wrist and began rubbing some sort of cream into my skin. My dead skin cells began to slough off as she rubbed a two inch diameter circle. All the while I was thinking, when was the last time you washed your hands kiosk lady, and who said you could touch me? I protested gently at first. She ignored my protests trying to make me feel guilty for not exfoliating properly.
Next, she pulled out a nail buffer and began to shine my thumb nail to a glossy glow, all the while continuing to ignore my protests. She pressed the cream she was peddling into my hand. This was to make me think that I couldn’t live without the miracle product as she quoted its outrageous price. I slammed the jar down on the shelf of her kiosk and walked away to her loudly saying she had a damaged box of the same stuff she’d let me have at a discount. I kept my eyes averted and deafened my ears to her mournful sounds.
I was fuming for the rest of the day. But when the memory of it began to fade, I got to thinking I really should exfoliate more often. And, when was the last time I buffed my nails? You don’t need to buy $90 cream from a kiosk lady to do either of those things. Every cloud has a silver lining, which in this case is a reminder to not neglect the small things. Also, keep the silver for yourself and don’t buy overpriced cream with it, get rid of the cloud, which in this case is the kiosk lady. Happy ending.