Thursday, October 25, 2007

The Worth and Dignity of Man

"O, what men dare do! What men may do! What men dailydo, not knowing what they do!"Much Ado About Nothing (IV, i, 19-21)

A few years ago I went as a gypsy woman for Halloween. I was a standard gypsy; long skirt, scarf, tarot cards aka the basics. Lately, I've been using the term gypsy in a different way. They are no longer strange old ladies with curses lightly flittering off their lips who smell of incense and oregano but, a completely new breed of gyspy whom I have been attacked by (more than once) in the mall.

I went to the mall as a sanctuary away from doing homework and chores and, somehow, it became more of a chore than I had assumed. It was a trip to get more professional clothing and to get away from the mundane for a little while. Instead of being attacked by annoying highschoolers I was in for an entirely new form of nuisance; the gypsy-man.

He seemed nice but I knew his tricks...he wanted to sell me a manicure set. Recently, I decided to go faux-naturale with acrylic nails. I pay a Vietnamese lady to paint and fix them up every two weeks. With that, I didn't need some strange gypsy-man telling me how to buff my fake nails. Yet, it was late at night and, as me and my beau were leaving for home, the gypsy man snagged me. Literally, he grabbed me by the arm and made me listen to his 10 minute speech about how my face was dirty and that I needed his facial peel. Then he rubbed it on my arm repeating how he couldnt put it on my face in the middle of the mall. Meanwhile, the beau was seething with anger and frustration over gypsy-man's hostage takeover of, well, me. As he's rubbing my arm with his gypsy-peel I'm begining to fall for the bullshit.

"My face IS dirty," "this stuff IS all natural," and "I could use my 'only for emergency charge card,'" were all thoughts I had while the gypsy man smooth-talked and rubbed his way into my purse.

Then, the rubbing stopped. I felt the remnants of my under arm and it was as smooth as the gypsy-man's words. We compared the left arm to the newly buffed right arm. My normally pale skin was abnormally translucent on the arm he had scrubbed so dilligently. But, damn, it was soft like cotton. Then, he whipped out the price. A 12-month supply for 79.99.

"Yeah, we were on our way out and I have no money," I said to the gyspy-man as I turned to the lover who rolled his eyes and took my arm back.
"Did I tell you we are having very special discount today," he asked pulling out his visual aid...a magical calculator.

I kept protesting and he kept calculating a lower price but, never low enough. Then he said it...a number I could almost handle.

"29.99, pinky swear you won't tell anyone. I give this price to my family."

Visions of my American Express danced in my head. I could handle 30 bucks, right? I mean, it was a 12 month deal! I would have the most see-through skin of all the girls in the land!

My dreams were crushed as my boyfriend swiftly dismissed this STEAL of a price, told the gypsy man he was "very good at his job" and grabbed me as he said "we just have no money, sir."

On the way out of the mall I was glad I had someone to stop me from falling for the gypsy-man's spell. My boyfriend said I was better off since my underarm looked "unhealthy." And, that could've been my face!

The next day I ended up back at the mall, near my gypsy friend who I cleverly avoided; or so I thought. A couple kiasks down a new gypsy man with bangs that stood straight up wanted to sell me a straightener. I yelled "No thank you!" as I ran past him and smiled at my new found gypsy-confidence. I can beat their spells and potions! I dont need a clean face or straight hair!

Then a couple more kiasks down and a modern gypsy-woman asked me "Excuse me, do you keep your nails natural," I raised my very long and very fake nails in the air and screamed "Nope, not at all."

I ran away from the mall that day with a newly found confidence and the evil eye spell lurking over my head (thanks to three angry gypsies). I don't go to the mall anymore because it has become more trouble than its worth. Thanks to internet shopping and holy water I am a much happier, less cursed, gypsy-free woman.

~The Lady~

1 comment:

Stylings of a Selective Amnesiac said...

You're absolutely right about the gypsies at the mall.
It's like you're being hunted! Glad you can beat the pressure.

Nice post, lady. You definitely have a way with words :-)