As I move closer to the checkout point, the magazines change to the tabloids. Not so pretty, now. We've entered the hall of shame, pain, pity and hurt. Here the covers boast of the nastiest of the nasties. How the great and beautiful have fallen into the pit of power and fame. The once tantalizing displayed for everyone to see, without makeup, the ugliest shots of the once perfectly famous, the most derelict members of the once haves, with nothing left but a crappy bi-line, and a bad mug shot.
I get to the checkout. My checker is plump, sweet faced and happy. She has little white teeth with lots of gum, and she isn't afraid to show them. She smiles at me, and it's sincere. I can't help but smile back at her. Her eyelashes are naturally dark, her eyes too; sparkly brown and beautiful. She doesn't have on much makeup that I can tell, she doesn't really need it.
I look back at the bubble of unreality that sits at the front of her checkout lane, those photoshopped faces not really smiling, more like "toothing" at me. Those flat unreal images and shallow ad lines, just claimed a minute of my day. I look back to her, still smiling, a look of expectation on her face, waiting patiently for me to pay. I think she's simply amazing. It is painfully obvious to me at this moment, how completely divorced the mainstream media and advertisers have become from what is real, beautiful, and important to me. Wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone could see it too, and instead of spending $5 on this trash, spend 5 minutes getting to know the sparkling person standing right in front of you?
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