Call me a conspiracy theorist but I believe Ulta buys
specialty light bulbs. They are not (insert number here) watts, they are your
skin/ hair/ makeup/ clothes are a HOT MESS. I felt pretty good walking in, it
was my first time, I was wearing my work gear. A nice pair of grey slacks, a curve
hugging black sweater and my daily mix of silver jewelry. I felt my makeup was
nicely set and although I have a few blemishes, Almay did a good job at concealing
my secret. But no. Oh hell no. The minute my two inch black heels hit the
perfectly waxed entry, I knew…I was doomed. The lights, the floors, the
shelves, the employees, a fellow shopper (who had her hands full of products so
I suspect she was a well paid secret shopper to get us schlumps to get all she
had in her perfect toned arms)….it was all perfect. And intimidating as hell. The gal was nice
enough but with her baby soft skin and the fact that she was five inches
shorter than me…I felt like the Acne Amazon Queen who came to Ulta Land
to conqueror them. I just smiled and kept my head down for the most part. You
know what that store needs? A greeter. And not a Stepford Wife….a regular run
of the mill Iowa gal who for the most part in life has self esteem but
sometimes struggles with her self worth and a pesky blemish from time to time.
Kinda like…..well….me.
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