Makeup

Don't know if it's because of the migraine on Sunday, which has clouded the last two days for me too, with my head being a little fuzzy and painkillers having to be taken each day, but I'm finding annoyances everywhere...some my normal ones, some new ones.

A BIG pet hate for me is women who apply their make up in public - something that I may have mentioned before.  It really grates on me.  I don't want to see you pulling stupid faces on the train.  I don't want to watch you take ten fricking minutes to apply mascara - WHO TAKES THAT LONG???  I don't want to be covered in your powder foundation or blusher.  And don't even get me started on the ones who then do their hair...GAH!

My favourite game, should I find myself sat next to one of these lazy women who cannot get out of bed 15 minutes earlier so they can cake their face in cosmetic crap, is the "accidental nudge game".  This is a very fun game, because they never say anything to you.  Armed only with a copy of the Metro, I can get the powdering prissy as pissed off as I am...leaving me feeling ever so slightly happier.  Sadly neither of the women on the train today were next to me, so occasional glares in their direction was all I could do.

It used to only be a "slight annoyance" level for me until about 9 years ago.  I was sat on one of the older SouthWest trains...don't know if you remember them, they had the seats with the really high backs that were supposed to seat three but barely sat two.  I was heading to my then home, and a women in her 40s sat next to me and promptly got out her very large makeup bag.  It should be noted that this woman already had a face caked in makeup.  She spent the next 20 minutes applying even more makeup.  One can only assume she was going to a hooker convention somewhere in deepest Surrey.  I had been elbowed several times and then covered in various of her powdered makeup.  

Once she'd finished, she pulled a hairbrush from her bag and brushed her hair all over me.  Another thing I should possibly mention is that I don't like hair touching me.  I don't like other people's hair touching my skin, I barely like my own hair touching my skin, I certainly don't like other people touching my hair (unless pre-approved in writing).  So this stranger's hair that was now being brushed all over me was freaking me out somewhat, but I held it together.

Brush back into her bag, she roots around for something else...A-HA! She has found what she was looking for...and pulls out a bottle of perfume.

No.

No that's too far.

I believe my exact words to her were "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" as she froze, perfume ready to spray.  

What amazed me more was that she was completely oblivious to the fact that spraying her perfume in such confined quarters would actually offend anyone.  Erm...HELLO!  Earth to dumbarse hooker!!

She actually asked me what my problem was...I think she wished she hadn't as I explained to her how her entire "beauty" regime had ended up all over me and that I considered it very rude of her to shower me with make up and her hair and that if she even entertained the idea of pressing down on her perfume she would find it out of the train window so fucking fast, along with her entire bag.

The rest of the journey was in rather uncomfortable silence.  To be honest, I couldn't believe I had said anything...

Oh...and the perfume was put bag in the bag...UNSPRAYED.