On Saturday I went to Saks for the first time in my life (and almost certainly the last, though it was fun in an anthropological observation way.) My friend and I noticed the counter for De La Mer, makers of the famously expensive Creme De La Mer ($110 per ounce). When we walked by, my friend said "Let's get samples!" She marched right up to the counter and grabbed a tub and opened it while I stood in awe, but it was empty. A salesgirl rushed up and my friend said confidently "We'd like a sample, please."
The look on the salesgirl's face was priceless -- a combination of eyerolling, sighing and silently judging us all in one look. She got out a precious tub of the priceless creme and used a mini spackler to apply a microscopic amount to each of our hands, instructing us in her Eastern European accent to pat it on our faces, not to rub. I just slapped it on my cheeks and started rubbing. "No, you are doing it wrong! Do not rub!" So I started patting, but it was taking too long so I rubbed again. The salesgirl stared at me angrily. "You are clogging your pores right now. That is what you are doing, you are clogging your pores" (imagine Natasha of Boris and Natasha saying this.) My friend and I laughed all the way out of the store and down the street, doing imitations. "You are clogging your pores right now! You are trash and you are clogging your pores. Tonight, you will die in your sleep." (Oh, if you're wondering what makes Creme De La Mer so special, don't ask me. I think you could get the same effect with Vaseline. Pat, don't rub!)