Say that five times fast.
I went in there a few days ago to pick out cologne for a platonic gentleman friend's birthday, and upon my entry, a woman lunged at me, flailing a miniature, shimmering, berry-scented tube in front of my face.
"Free lipgloss samples!" she said, smiling so hugely I swear her teeth made me temporarily blind. Either that or those fluorescent lights they use in there to make you look uglier than normal so you buy more makeup.
I couldn't say no to something that smelled so delicious, so I tried it.
After I put it on, the girl--Sheila, I believe--said the following.
"Yeah! It's our new lip plumper!"
This, my friends, made me want to kill myself.
I spat, I sputtered, I scrambled, and I grabbed for any and every wipe, cotton ball, tissue, and swab within a hundred yard radius. "Lady, does it look like I need this?"
I suppose in retrospect that this should have relieved me of my proverbial "trout pout" complex, because someone was insisting that they should look bigger than they actually are. But sweet Jesus, if I had left that shit on, I might have wound up swallowing my own head.
*Jess, who hates when people pout in pictures and thinks "It's Raining Men" is one of the most underrated songs ever