Don't Leave Me Alone At The Airport

Once, when I was little and we were on vacation somewhere in the South of Europe, a man gifted me a rose. I say gifted, but what I mean is "exploited my innocent materialism to sell my dad a rose he didn't want to buy". Since then, my parents have told me a million times to just say no to people who seem to be giving you something for free on the street, because when you grab it, you buy it. A couple weeks ago I was approached by a rose vendor on a busy shopping street, and this time, being my responsible adult self now, I basically ran away. It was a proud moment.

Well, today I managed to spoil all of that progress, and in a bit of a way more pricey dimension than five bucks for a rose, too.

You see, I had just dropped of this weekend's visitors at the airport, and I was a little sad to be alone again, so my nose had probably turned a healthy shade of red, and I didn't have any makeup on so I looked like a twelve year old with a runny nose when I was walking past one of these airport pop-up spa stores (I always wondered who goes out of town to the airport to have an expensive facial) and the guy outside offered me a handcream. The plan was to take it and walk faster (a bit like running away, but more elegant). However, totally out of the blue, the guy asked me what I use for my skincare.

"Um. Micelle water?" Shoot, he got my weak point. I have the crappiest skincare ever, as you'll know if you read this. He sensed my fear, and I honestly can't remember how it happened, but I found myself on a stool with my wrists out and smeared with something creamy, nodding along to the guy explaining the wonders of the facial peel he was sampling on me. And it did sound like it made sense. And it did feel nice on my wrist. But seriously, what doesn't? After he showed me the matching toner, cleanser and moisturizer, I frantically tried to think of the perfect polite "goodbye and thanks but no thanks" phrase to get me the hell out of there. I could hear my parents' disbelieving moan echoing inside my head against the copious monologue of the sales g

uy that culminated in the much dreaded reveal of the price. It was ridiculous, at least for my personal taste (eg. I bought a baby moisturizer for less than a dollar because I felt like it was as good for sensitive skin as pharmacy bought stuff), and I thought I had won when I fake-sighed that I didn't have that much money to spend.

But oh, then he went all half-price on me (and I am painfully aware that this is probably the only legit price there is) and I considered the size of the product and the fancy effects he promised and the design of the packaging and the dawning realization that I was already in there for far too long to leave empty-handed and thought "oh well, I'm not gonna starve" and whipped out my card.

I just want to point out that I was emotionally vulnerable, all by myself, very insecure about my lack of proper skincare, and a sucker for luxury items. Also, the month of all gift-giving there is to a year is coming up, isn't it?

Maybe I should give it back as long as I haven't opened it. Maybe it isn't any good? It's called "D'Or Facial Peeling" by Gold Elements. Let me know until Friday if you got the inside scoop!



Meanwhile, I'll try to look as unapproachable as I can when walking by stores.

Love,

Rosy Smith