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Women Who Wear Make Up Make More Money

Here is a true story which I wrote around 1998 while living in America. S. Hein

Women Who Wear Make Up Make More Money

I am on a plane, flying from Tampa to Dallas. There are two ladies who sell Mary Kay cosmetics in front of me. One is dressed in red high heels, white hoes, a red matching outfit with three gold bands on the sleeves, she has a gold watch, three gold rings with at least ten stones in each one. Her earrings look something like 1/2 inch stacks of silver coins. Her face is covered with lipstick, eyeliner, rouge, mascara, etc. The only thing which surprises me is that her fingernails still look natural. Her companion, however, has "French nails,' which remind me of someone I once dated in Dallas who also worked in sales and marketing. The women are about 50.

I am feeling a little stressed. Their constant chatter about orders and sales problems is getting to me. Maybe my headphones will help. I think of the girl on the plane from Europe last year who listened to gangster rap CD's the whole way.

Now they are looking at a glossy sales catalog with bright pictures of makeup Then one says "Oh, this is great!" I can see that one of the pages has a flashy title which shouts: "All about lips."

The one in red says "You can write on it and erase it? Oh, I think this is a great idea!" She reaches out and lightly touches the arm of the other one. She continues, "Oh, that is a great idea. Great. I love that."

I feel a little guilty for eavesdropping and typing in what they are saying. Maybe someone is reading my screen as I type!

"Do you want a piece of gum?," the lady in red asks. Now they are talking about "prospects....."

AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH! I must put on my headphones before I scream!!!!!!!

They are talking about "brush sets" and sales records, and reading Mary Kay sales propaganda. I would like to ask them if they think more cosmetics will solve the problem of child abuse.

I hear one say "Good closing question." "That is what I gotta do. I have gotta have the strength to ask for the order. To close it. It is all about being strong and believing in yourself. That is what I need to remember." They are trained, programmed, brainwashed. They would make good Scientologists.

They are looking at a summary of sales strategies, printed on lavender paper. One is coaching the other energetically. The lady in red says, "Right. Right. Yeah, right. Good point." She nods her head. She is a model active listener! The other keeps reaching out to touch her friend's arm or the arm rest under it.

Now they have a calculator out. They are calculating profit margins on products.

Red gets up - I see she has a pin with sparkling stones which I think says $4,000,000. I am afraid you won't believe me, but, as Dave Barry says, "I am not making this up."

I hear Red say, "That's why we have to work on our self-esteem so much. You have to get your personal life in order..."

I decided to play with them a little. So I pretend to be interested in the flashy pin. I ask Red, "Excuse me. Does that pin say 4 million dollars?" She is happy to tell me it is $400,000- the amount their "unit" made in sales last year.

We chat for a moment then I tell them I prefer females who don't wear any make up. They are shocked! Red asks, "Do you like women who make money?" I say money is not the most important thing to me. Before I have ended the sentence, Red says " ...because women who wear make up make more money."

When I said that I don't see nearly as much makeup in other countries, French Nails says, "Well, they are coming around."

I ask if they have ever been to Europe. Neither one has. I am not surprised.

Then they tell me that men are good customers, not only do they buy lots of things for their "honeys," but they are also buying more creams and skin care products.

About then they probably realized I was not going to be their freind or customer and they started talking to each other again with no parting remarks. So I sit back in my seat and start typing, still shaking my head in a combination of disbelief, disgust, and painful acceptance of the frightening reality I have just witnessed.

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