I went to the mall the other day to pick out a pretty dress for a party I had to attend for Dr. Husband's school. This is not familiar territory for me so I made to sure to stop and get a mall field guide before I went in. I needed to know if there were any newly discovered creatures since I was a teenager. I was expecting the usual skanks and whathaveyou. This is the Midwest, so there were plenty of mullety types walking around too. I went too late to see the fit seniors powerwalking.


One species I totally should have been wary of was the kiosk skin care lady. When you visit the mall as infrequently as I do, you just forget that there's snake oil salespeople at every kiosk. So she did her thing and wasted my time for about 10 minutes. Then when she was trying to grab my wallet and push cleansers down my throat, I yelled "Look at that girl's skin over there!" She turned around and I pulled my arm away and sort of ran away. I was pretty proud of myself for outwitting the kiosk lady without having to chew my arm off.

What I wasn't expecting though, was the guy sitting at the manicure station next to me. I only get my nails done once or twice a year, so I kind of look forward to the experience. Apparently the guy next to me was really into it. He was finishing up as I was getting started. I don't have a problem with guys getting their nails did, because nasty craggy fingers are kind of gross. I wouldn't reccommend french tips to most guys though.

So anyway, this guy looked like a delivery person of some kind or other. Not that there's anything wrong with that. He's waiting for his clear polish to dry and he starts making faces at himself in the mirror that covers the wall behind the manicurists. Like cutesy faces. He wrinkled his nose up. And made coy little smiles to himself. And puckered his lips ever so slightly. Then he turned to the lady doing my nails and said "I feel so beautiful!"

There was nothing in the field guide covering that one.