As I perused the make-up section, I found a small clearance area. Some of the prices were really good, so I started to open boxes and see if they had my color in anything. A middle aged Hispanic woman was looking through boxes next to me. She gave me some helpful advice in finding the number on the box so that I could just look at it in the samples rather than having to open each box. I thanked her and, finding a couple of things, I moved on to the jewelry.
I was smirking at some ridiculously loud necklaces when the woman came back over to me. In broken English, she explained that she does make up and asked me if I'd like mine done. Not one to turn down cosmetics related offers, I gleefully accepted.
I followed her back to the make up samples, and she started covering my face in concealer. She explained to me that concealer is good for "covering... things". I'm certain she believes I was completely unaware of this fact, because I was feeling really lazy this morning and hardly did anything with my make-up.
As she continued painting, I tried to get to know my impromptu make up artist better . Her name is Fatima and she grew up in Chihuahua, Mexico. She has 6 children between the ages of 11 and 17, with just the oldest being a girl and the rest are boys. She does make up for friends and family for a hobby. Fatima learned all that she knows about the art from watching Mexican novellas (soap operas).
As she was getting close to finishing up, I began to think that she might do this in hopes of making some money. She had mentioned that she loved shopping. I was prepared to reach into my purse for a few dollars, because she was just being so sweet. When she said she was finished she turned me to look in a mirror and waited just long enough for me to exclaim, "Oh! It's lovely! Thank you!" Then she just smiled, put a hand on my arm said, "You are very pretty," and thanked me in return. Immediately she turned around and walked away before I could give her any money.
I had to go pick Ben up from school right after. As he flung open the car door he cried out, "WHOA! Well, hello my little Mexican wife!"
Rightfully so. Because this is what he was greeted with.
It's not bad at all, just not at all me. In Ben's words, "It's like biting into what you think is a chicken sandwich and getting a banana instead. Not bad, just very different."
Actually, I kind of like parts of it. But, most of all, I loved the experience. It's hard not to be happy when someone just did something nice for you for no other reason than that they wanted to.
So, wherever you are, Fatima, thank you for one of the most happy, random experiences of my life.
You're a beautiful person.
