Oh for the love of manners!

“Jen, people in LA don’t have manners.” Hand to God, Spencer said this to me in the car on Saturday. We then discussed a TV show starring yours truly where I do my daily (or hourly) rants on LA’s rudest (majority of population) to a much larger audience than my current one, mom’s voicemail and Spencer.

My latest target appeared at Blu Jam, my fav breakfast spot. The girl sat with her friend at a table behind Spencer, I had a great view. As they waited for their check, this girl preceded to take out a fairly large sized makeup bag out of her even larger purse and plop it down on the table. How large was this makeup bag? It was large enough that had I not already been assaulted by her actual purse in the restaurant waiting area earlier that day, I would have thought she put her purse on the table.

From this large bag, which I can only guess was made by the same company that made Mary Poppins carpet bag, she pulled a compact and a powder brush. Surely a small powder brush, you think, this is after all meant to travel well. No my dears, it was the full sized face/body combo brush usually left on the vanity, never to visit any place other than your home. Why would she need such a large brush? It’s 3 in the afternoon, she’s already applied her makeup for the day. Apparently the task of eating was so strenuous it had caused her face to fall completely off. For after she applied several swirls of a fair shade powder (she’s Asian-Amer) she pulled out the bronzer and began buffing away, all the while talking to her friends across the table.

By this point I’m very obviously leaning to my right to better see around Spencer and have begun narrating the event to him. As she puts the bronzer and jumbo brush back into the bag she pauses. Perhaps she’s done, maybe this was not her original intention. She may have originally been doing a cursory glance for food in her teeth before they departed and realized, in the more naturally lit setting of Blu Jam, that she looked a bit pale and needed a quick touch up. Weird but, it’s LA so I’ll forgive a little. But then, why would she be toting such a large makeup bag to begin with? I also have a portable face, but mine is small and contains mostly mini versions of my full face. It’s primarily for after work touch ups and oops I slept over at Spencer’s on a school night. No, this was not the same sort of bag.

Once the pause ended (long enough to ask for the check) the eye shadow pallet came out. Not one of those tiny Cover Girl 4 packs or even a Clinique duo. This more aptly resembled Urban Decay Naked or perhaps Naked 2. (Side note that Mindy Kaling carries the Naked in her large bag, but the girl goes from The Office set to dinner at night and I doubt she ever takes it out at the table.)

The only credit I can give this young lady is that she did not attempt the smokey eye, a few small dabs would do it. Of course this was followed by blush and lipstick. By the time the credit cards were returned, she’d nearly finished picking her teeth with her pinky nail.

I leaned to my left occasionally to see if her friend looked annoyed/embarrassed/confused. None of the above, just sipped her latte like this was standard operating procedure. It’s moments like these I’d like to be 10 yrs older. If I were 10 yrs older I could walk up, put my hand on her shoulder and say quietly in her ear, “hun, they have a ladies room here.” Alas, I cannot, or else I’d just be that bitchy girl who told her to fix her face in the bathroom. How rude!

Clearly I was shocked, and there’s not a lot that shocks me here anymore. My first Halloween visit I saw a man in West Hollywood walking down the street at 1pm on a Saturday in ass-less leather chaps, butt hanging out like Prince at the MTV awards. This was something totally different. It wasn’t a holiday or West Hollywood. This was brunch, on Melrose! Not a fancy place but still, it wasn’t the high school cafeteria/burger joint.

I remember as a kid, my mom didn’t wear much make up, still doesn’t. She had dry lips like mine but hers were thinner and less defined, so she rarely wore lipstick. I was, however, told makeup was to be put on in the bathroom, and only there. My step monster on the other hand, looked like she’d stepped out of an episode of Dynasty. She had this small lipstick carrier with a tiny mirror that could only show your lips. This was the only item of makeup she allowed to be retouched at the table.

When I was 11 I received a few small makeup items for Christmas. One night at Golden Corral I pulled out my wet/dry foundation compact and began putting it on at the table. No sooner had I put puff to face than the step monster snatched it out of my little hand. Do that again and there would be no cookie, ice cream, gummy bear sundae for me. Can you imagine if I’d brought to whole caboodle in with me? I desperately wanted to tell that girl, no dessert for you!