during lunch today
J and I went to Novena to eat and shop around. Just as we were leaving, we stopped by one of those new brightly-lit cutely-packaged skincare product shops, so we went in to take a look. We were hovering over the eye mask shelf when suddenly a voice piped up from behind us - an unfortunate, permanently high-pitched voice, slightly shrill and slightly squeaky, like a little mouse having a panic attack. As J put it: "I thought it was a handphone and I turned around and it was a person!"
The voice belonged to a college-age salesgirl, inexpertly primped and plumped to within an inch of her fake eyelashes. She was eager and helpful, but ultimately useless. J, caught up in an ecstasy of fake eyelashes, agreed to buy a pair and let the salesgirl help her put them on - which came to naught after three failed attempts with a shaky hand. But as I observed the salesgirl's uneven eyeliner, little shiny pink hairclip and glossed lips wide open in concentration, I felt a rush of sympathy for her. This girl with the cartoon character voice - What is her life like? Does she do well in school? Does she go home to a hardworking and loving family? Is that silver ring on her finger proof of a boyfriend who treats her like a princess? I hoped so.
Even when I came back to the office and realised she'd overcharged me for my face masks.
On the way back J and I also ended up in a cab driven by an old Malay woman, who was so incompetent at navigation that it was impossible to come to any other conclusion than she had stolen the cab and was maniacally trying to make as much money as possible before the real owner - Chinese, judging by the radio station - came back for it. But that's a story for another day.
posted by zyn ::
2:57 PM ::
2 Comments ::
permalink
--------------------------------------------------------::--------------------------------------------------------
