Sometimes I Just Can't Help Myself
The 6:34 train to Grand Central was crowded as usual on a Monday morning. The train left New Haven already half full and by the time it hit Milford -- my stop -- Milfordites had to search to find seats. Fortunately, I was second on the train and was able to sit in a two-seater next to a twenty-year-old listening to her iPod. I figured this would be the perfect seat because she would either sleep or listen to her music, as most of her friends were sleeping at that hour and I wouldn't be subject to phone conversation.
Yes, even finding a seat on the train requires strategy.
Nothing happened for the first fifteen minutes. It was great. She had her eyes closed and I was able to focus on my work. Then, as the train left Bridgeport, the twenty-year-old decided to put on some makeup.
Now, I'm not up on what constitutes the proper amount of makeup a person should have, but this was a bit excessive. First, she pulled out a brush of some kind. Then there was a powder puff. Then another brush, followed by a pencil, a small brush and something like a sponge. This process went on for a good half an hour.
I was amazed that so much makeup was necessary in this day and age. But, alas, she finished and, I was able to concentrate once again on my taks at hand. My co-commuter, meanwhile, took off her iPod and began reading The DaVinci Code.
Apparently, Dan Brown was only able to hold her attention for fifteen minutes, because at that time, Ms. Makeup decided to create a Mona Lisa of her own. More brushes and sponges, puffs and pencils. Once, she took out this enormous brush that I swear I used to paint my bathroom. She used it to "blend" her layers, I guess. When that went away, I figured it was over.
No.
Two more small brushes were used around the eyes. Another pencil for her lips and, then lipstick. Twenty minutes after painting session number two began, she put the lipstick away and we were entering the tunnel at Grand Central.
Ms. Makeup checked herself for the final time in one of her seven little mirrors she carried in her purse. When she was finally satisfied with her masterpiece she put the mirror away.
At that moment, I turned to her and said, "Oh, you missed a spot."
Yes, even finding a seat on the train requires strategy.
Nothing happened for the first fifteen minutes. It was great. She had her eyes closed and I was able to focus on my work. Then, as the train left Bridgeport, the twenty-year-old decided to put on some makeup.
Now, I'm not up on what constitutes the proper amount of makeup a person should have, but this was a bit excessive. First, she pulled out a brush of some kind. Then there was a powder puff. Then another brush, followed by a pencil, a small brush and something like a sponge. This process went on for a good half an hour.
I was amazed that so much makeup was necessary in this day and age. But, alas, she finished and, I was able to concentrate once again on my taks at hand. My co-commuter, meanwhile, took off her iPod and began reading The DaVinci Code.
Apparently, Dan Brown was only able to hold her attention for fifteen minutes, because at that time, Ms. Makeup decided to create a Mona Lisa of her own. More brushes and sponges, puffs and pencils. Once, she took out this enormous brush that I swear I used to paint my bathroom. She used it to "blend" her layers, I guess. When that went away, I figured it was over.
No.
Two more small brushes were used around the eyes. Another pencil for her lips and, then lipstick. Twenty minutes after painting session number two began, she put the lipstick away and we were entering the tunnel at Grand Central.
Ms. Makeup checked herself for the final time in one of her seven little mirrors she carried in her purse. When she was finally satisfied with her masterpiece she put the mirror away.
At that moment, I turned to her and said, "Oh, you missed a spot."
posted by E-Luv at 8:50 AM
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