I stopped at Rite Aid on the way home for a few things. I worked late so the store was fairly empty which allowed me to look for what I needed in peace. I was on my last item when someone walked towards me with determination in her eyes. She was muttering to herself so I didn’t say anything when she nearly walked right into me.
She was on a make-up aisle mission, and you don’t mess with a woman on a mission. Or she was crazy, you don’t mess with crazy either.
Still muttering, still focused, she bumped into a display and knocked half of it over. I bent down to help her because I have done that before and it makes you feel like a whole new level of idiot.
She said “thanks”, I said “no problem”. She said “this is hopeless”, I said “we’ve all been there sister”. Then she looked up and I saw what was hopeless.
On her face was the biggest zit I have ever seen on any human being. It looked painful and angry, like every toxin in her body was trying to escape through one tiny, tortured pore on her chin. She had clearly tried (and retried) popping it because highlighting the bright, white volcanic center was a ring of both dried and fresh blood.
I let the “oh my” slip before I could catch it (I’m bad at letting things slip lately) and she said “I doubt you’ve been here, sister”. Aside from the muttering and bitterness of birthing what I can only assume was an organ out of her chin, she was a pretty girl and seemed fairly sane, so I asked her what she was looking for. Turns out, her sister is getting married this weekend and she wasn’t sure even Photoshop would be able to erase this monstrosity from the pictures.
I kind of agree with her. Even Superman had his limits.
We stood there for 30 minutes looking for cover-up, powders, Googling miracle zit tricks of the rich and famous, masks, lotions, eye drops (it takes the red out of zits – tip of the day)… anything to help this poor girl.
When we had loaded her basket with options, she gave me a big hug and thanks. We checked out and I wished her well. As we walked into the night air, she accidentally scratched her chin, releasing a white tidal wave of awfulness.
I told her to go back in and return everything. She looked at me with confusion and tears in her eyes. “Make a dermatology appointment and have that thing professionally vacuumed. You’re going to need a transfusion if this keeps up.”
She left laughing and told me I reminded her of her crazy aunt who has four cats.