Friday, July 30, 2010

Stranger Danger

Take the candy!
After years of nearly zero brushes with unlawfulness in big cities, I recently fell victim to my first ever mugging. Being robbed in broad daylight ranks relatively high on the list of city dangers, but for me it lead to a far scarier threat ... Mary Kay saleswomen.

At first glance that cosmetics company would have no relationship to a purse-snatching. However, with my shoulder bag went a stash of newly purchased goods from "Facial Home Depot"*, Ulta Beauty. Cruel fate! It was a deep blow to my shallow side. Due to budget constraints, I settled on cheap drug store replacements but the feeling of loss lingered. (It did amuse me to imagine the thug's dismay when he realized all my assets were tied up in Bare Minerals. Or maybe "Golden Gate" was his shade too?)

Enter Annie**. She cornered me last week while I was minding my own business in the State St. Macy's in Chicago's Loop. Annie was a whirlwind of red hair, purple eyeshadow, and suspiciously enthusiastic compliments. Most of us are taught at a tender age, "Don't talk to strangers; they could be dangerous." But Annie was mostly talking at me, so I didn't recognize the trap being set. As she launched into an explanation of her role with that respected company, Mary Kay, I nodded politely and considered the shoes on the clearance rack behind her head.


"... SOOOOOO. I don't really know if what I do is something that you'd be interested in, BUT you should TOTALLY come to a little powwow we're hosting! I can tell you're FUN! You'll love the women!" She took a breath and I seized the moment to make my exit, "Well, thank you for inviting me, but I need to get go..." She continued, "...of course you'll get a BIG bag of Mary Kay goodies for being my guest!"

Aaaaannnnnd, gotcha.

Annie had lured me with candy-flavored lipgloss to her awaiting van. At the words "bag" and "goodies" visions of a restocked, high-quality makeup bag seized my imagination. All I had to do was drop by a meeting of her saleswomen friends and be FUN for a couple of hours! Easy! I quickly agreed to attend the event. Assured of her prey, Annie hustled away and left me to my mascara daydreams.

The next day, I shared my mercenary plan with my mom, joking about my hoped-for haul. What I should have taken into consideration is that since the mugging my mother had been operating in Momma Bear Mode, teetering toward Sarah Palin Confronting a Moose Mode, regarding threats to her offspring. She urged me in dire tones "...to be VERY CAREFUL about getting involved with Mary Kay..." and shared a woeful tale of a friend who was seemingly waterboarded into joining. Tra la, mother. I am too crafty to be taken in! Watch me score some swag.

(Clearly, I am a Failure of Midwestern Values. Vanity, check. Greed, check. Ignoring a parent's well-meant advice, why not!)

There were plenty of signs the day of the event that it was a fool's errand. My express train to the city repeatedly stalled due to maintenance issues w/ busted A/C. Once off the late, sweltering train, the mile-high escalator to the street was broken. Once on the street, the set of TRANSFORMERS 3 (!!!) had closed the sidewalk and forced me around the block to get to the hotel event center. I've learned this: when Optimus Prime himself suggests, "Hey, maybe you should give this up and go home to catch some "Teen Mom" reruns", listen.

Regardless, I forged ahead to the event. As the door to the conference room clicked behind me, a feeling of "no way out but through" took hold. A Mary Kay rep directed me to sit in an ominously small cluster of chairs immediately right of center stage with the other "VIP guests". Hmm. It seemed I would not be able to inconspicuously fade into the background if the night went sour. Stay cool. The festivities kicked off with several (almost too) perfectly put-together saleswomen sharing their stories of found wealth with the company. "Well, good for them!" I thought, still determined to ride this out and claim my treats.

As yet another immaculate blonde directed her success story toward my tiny group, I shifted in my seat to survey the scene. There was Annie, staring right back at me from across the room. Uhh, o-kay. No luscious gift bag table seemed to be present, but I rationalized that they were stowed somewhere else. And...no snacks. For a two hour dinner-time meeting. "Oh God. They want us hungry so we'll make rash choices. This is not good."

I faced front and steeled myself for the evening. Soon, a high-ranking rep of a certain age sat down with my VIP bunch and began an intimate and lengthy recruitment spiel. It included such gems as: "I like getting noticed in that pink Caddy. It sets me apart. I mean, EVERYONE has a Mercedes!" and "Honey, he'll put a ring on it if you earn that trip to Hawaii and threaten not to take him!" Too true. As a kid, my Barbie always passive-aggressively denied favors to Ken with excellent results.

Judging by the rapt expressions on some of my fellow Veeps, the woman's fairytale of diamonds, hot cars, and travel was doing its job. But by the conclusion of materialistic story hour, my plummeting blood sugar made me more desperate for sandwich acquisition than luxury goods. I stood and judged the distance to the exit...

Too late. "Hello!!!" Annie popped up behind me. "So, what did you like best about the talk?!" she chirped.

"Ummm, the rewards package sounds pretty unbelievable."

"Awesome! Sit down, sit down! Let's chat!"

The dumb and greedy choice to be here was allll mine, so I resigned myself to starvation and retook my seat. "I would LOVE to work with you! I think this is an amazing opportunity for you! SO can you join us?" I smiled and answered, truthfully, that clearly the saleswomen in the room had had great success but I wasn't sure it would work for me. "Of COURSE it can work for you! It's just $100 for your starter kit. What's it going to take to get you on board today?"

I decided to cut to the chase. "Honestly, Annie, I am fulfilled at my day job and I don't have the makings of a saleswoman. I'm not interested in joining Mary Kay at this time." The transformation in Annie's face was instantaneous and chilling. Her megawatt smile hardened to a thin line and her eyes took on a cool gleam. She firmly replied, "Well, if all you got from tonight was that this is about sales, then I think we need to have a further discussion. I'll meet you after work tomorrow. 6 o'clock good?" (For the waterboarding!?) Panic welled. Looks like mom was right on this one. I pasted on a nervous smile, said I was busy now and forever, and rose to escape.

Before releasing me she said, "I want you to think this over and I'll be in touch." She frostily pulled a small cellophane gift bag from her purse and held it out to me. It was filled with a saleswoman application, thick MK catalog, and a small bottle of sunblock. Nicely played, Annie. Nicely played indeed.

I felt her staring ice daggers at my back as I ran out of the hotel in slow motion. I lost a high heel but determinedly charged toward the street. Toward freedom. Explosions from the nearby movie set framed the city skyline behind me, dramatically backlighting my flight from peril. 
Yeah. Not really. (But that would have made this ending a lot better, right?)

Instead I trudged to the bus stop, stomach grumbling and tiny SPF lotion taunting me. My makeup bag remains pitiful but I learned a valuable urban lesson. Even as an adult, be wary of strangers. Also, just wait for a damn coupon from Ulta.

* Copyright, Phil Peters.
** Name changed to protect both of us.

(Published by Kramy)

5 comments:

  1. HAHAHA.

    best parts: "lured me with candy-flavored lipgloss to her awaiting van" and "I am a Failure of Midwestern Values." I feel like that too sometimes.

    Also, I didn't know dad called Ulta the Facial Home Depot!

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  2. also, non-operational escalator! what did i say? what did i just say?

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  3. Hi Guys - love the blog and thanks for the opportunity for me to, once again, post all those amusing stories that I'm sure you found entertaining as you grew up. I know that the theme of this blog is city dangers but there is a sub-theme here and that is bad escalator stories. Here is mine. When I worked at the data center in Brecksville, the elevators were constantly breaking. In fact, I often though the escalator manufacturers would everyone a great service by building in those warning gates that say "Elevator Under Repair" right into the equipment. It would save the repair people the time and effort of having to set up these items every time they come to fix the escalator. Anyway, I digress. After many months of constant repairs, the decision was made to do a complete overhaul of the offending escalator. The obligatory repair gates were set up and work began. For months every piece of that escalator was removed, cleaned, aligned and ultimately reinstalled. Finally the work was completed, the gates removed and the escalator was scheduled to become operational once again. And it was - at least for the rest of the day. The next day the escalator was broken, the gates reappeared and life was back to normal. So if you guys are looking for a career with guaranteed employment look into the fascinating world of escalator repair.

    Amy - Next time, stay away from the Mary Kay pimps.

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  4. UPDATE: Annie is persistent, yo! She has called me at work twice this week to try to arrange a "girls night" for me and my friends. Sheyah, right. As if I'd subject any person I cared about to these shenanigans.

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