It happens to the best of us. It is not a good feeling when you realize that you have made a major mistake and you want to knock yourself in your forgetful head.
You are traveling. You reach your destination. You open your luggage and you realize that you have left most of your toiletry items at home. It is late, so you make the most of the hotel micro mini toothbrush and tiny tube of toothpaste.
Until tomorrow … when you realize that most of your makeup is also in that toiletry bag! Now, it’s serious, especially if you are a Southern woman whose momma taught you NEVER to be seen without your “face” on. And, you have a speaking engagement in a few hours. Have mercy! I am an old beauty queen to boot. Although you do not have your makeup, you do have the lessons your Southern Momma taught you; it’s called, “Southern Ch-arm.”
I absolutely had it on; I mean, dripping with syllables I rode the elevator down to the front desk to my new BFFs, Peter and Wilford. Okay, Fellah’s, I have a problem but I know y’all are in the business to look at problems as opportunities to help others. I know some diva has stayed in this fine hotel and left her makeup bag. I bet that bag is polka dot and has a bow on top. Peter and Wilford gave me a strange look as one of them went on a search and rescue (the vain woman) mission. Only a minute later, I was presented with a large cloth makeup bag. No kidding — it had polka dots topped with a pink bow. We all burst out laughing. God bless these two men for coming to my rescue.
I got the royal treatment — from foundation, to eye makeup, to the correct shade of powder. I heard them discuss the best color for my skin tone and they made sure my lips were perfect. These guys knew nothing about makeup but they did their absolute best to help me sparkle and shine in front of the audience. I did not know what they had applied to my face but when I checked my makeup, it was amazing. I made sure to let the hotel manager know that Peter and Wilford were their hotel rock stars and my newest BBFs.
The question that continues to haunt me is this: how would I treat myself if the situation was reversed? Would I have taken the time and the trouble to find a makeup bag left by a previous visitor and make sure the color was perfect for Miss Forgetful Priss?
The ultimate question: Would I have reacted likewise to help a Diva Damsel in distress? Would I give her lip or lip liner? Would I have raised an eyebrow or an eyebrow pencil?
Though Peter and Wilford were far from makeup artists, they were creatively building the self-esteem of Miss Priss.
