The older I get, the more I hate conflict.
Like a few months ago, I was in a Benefit Cosmetics store for a small private event. A free eyebrow wax had been promised. But I asked them to tweeze my eyebrows instead because waxing makes me red, puffy and extremely unattractive. For days.
But the store lady said no. That wasn’t part of the event. I should really do the wax she insisted! (I guess red, puffy and extremely unattractive was cool with her.) Or I could do something else – like an upper lip wax. Her generosity knew no bounds.
Except that the eyebrow person was just standing there, with no customers, and it was apparently impossible for her to tweeze my eyebrows. Just impossible, they insisted. Why? Company policy. They only provide free eyebrow waxes (no plucking) at promotional events. Despite the fact that I was a faithful customer of the store.
The whole thing was ridiculous and I got in an argument with the Benefit store lady who might know a lot about foundation but very little about dealing with the public.
So I got her supervisor’s name and number and vowed to call the next day to begin righting all the wrongs in the makeup industry!
But I didn’t call the next day. Or the day after. Or ever.
You see, I’m out of energy.
For the dumb stuff.
In my youth, I would have called. For sure. Man, I used to attempt to publicly shame people when they littered on the streets of New York City! I would make a grand gesture of picking up their garbage, depositing it in a trash can and loudly denouncing their behavior. (And this was pre-Purell.)
And I led a crusade to convince my fellow sorority sisters to stop referring to us women as girls! We weren’t girls! We were powerful women!! Powerful women that liked to go to local ladies nights, make-out with frat guys and shimmy on bars.
And, of course, there was my mission to get my own mother to stop using Ziploc bags as a way to hold everything (from lotion to ChapStick to dental floss) in her purse. Because it looks like a Ziploc factory exploded in her bag…
(Note: This photo was not doctored in any way. That is exactly how my mom left her purse on my dining room table.)
My mother explained that she likes the bags because then she can easily see all her stuff. Well played Susie. Well played.
So I failed at all of these missions. And lately have lost a bit of my fighting mojo.
But I feel okay about it. I save my energy for the stuff that really matters to me. My family. My friends. Elections. The socials issues I care most about.
But not for some chick who refuses to pluck my eyebrows. Not anymore.