It's 10:23pm on Tuesday evening and I'm sitting at Gate 84 in San Francisco International Airport, waiting for my red eye flight to Chicago to board. As I left the house, I felt like I was missing something. My driver went through the mental checklist -- laptop, jacket, gloves, scarf, boarding pass, wallet, luggage -- okay, it's all there. We were on the road for about 15 minutes when it occurred to me that I'd left all of my makeup at home.
"Crap," I sighed from the back seat when I'd realized my error with the knowledge that the stores in Chicago wouldn't be open before my first meeting.
I ran through airport security, hoping to get to my saving grace -- The Body Shop -- before it closed. But first, airport security made me cringe and as they tossed my $20 Aveda hair gel into the trash. Ouch.
I scurried to Body Shop store window as the cleaners started to bring in the equipment. The managers were closing out the registers.
"I can see you're about to close. I just left all of my make up at home. I know exactly what I need. Please, please, I promise I'll be super fast if you just let me get what I need," I pleaded.
"Make it quick, and don't step on the wet floors," the male manager answered with an annoyed eye roll.
I ran around different displays quickly picking up eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadows, the works. The female manager helped me, asking what I needed and pulled the items off the shelf. This was a woman who knew my pain. And to the folks at The Body Shop corporate, the gal who works the late-night shift at SFO rocks. Because in less than five minutes, I had spent $65 on a second batch of makeup.
I hate flying. I'm so exhausted I'm praying (the rosary) that I'll fall asleep for the length of the flight.
And to those of you who I hope to see on Wednesday in Chicago, check out my new, purdy eyeshadow. It'll make it all worthwhile.
