Rejuvenation at Walgreens.
I was running late to Point B, grabbing items off Walgreen shelves required of me due to being a woman who hasn't quite reached menopause yet. On impulse, I also add a boxed jar of overnight "rejuvenating" cream because my skin has been looking like a tired old building whose facade has seen better days. It is hard for me to stop when I'm in a drugstore, since most days I feel like I need a cleanse, tan, personal trainer and complete 5th Avenue make-over. When in Walgreens or CVS I am tempted to think maybe I could make a dent of it on my own, even though countless attempts have left me wanting.
But this isn't about me.
This is about Mark, who I had never met until last night and whom I may never meet again. I would have put him in his fifties, with receding gray hair that was probably once blond and a set of teeth that were chipped and discolored that were likely never his best feature. But he sure did have a warm smile. As he scanned my boxes of feminine hygiene (I always feel badly when the older men or teenage boys have to endure the long seconds of scanning the sordid side of femininity), he looked up at me and in all sincerity, without a trace of inappropriateness, said: "You sure have pretty hair."
"Why, thank you! Really, how nice of you to say."
"Do you color it?"
"Well, kind of...but I've still got these stubborn grays that pop through more and more".
He leaned a little closer over the counter.
"Well, I am sure you have rightly earned every single one of them".
We made small talk as I slid my card strip-side down and when I walked out my spirit was filled up by a man who wasn't good-looking, wasn't wealthy and wasn't prestigious, the things which herds of humans spend up all the minutes of their days pursuing and whom we are told to emulate.
As I buckled up and popped a piece of peppermint gum in my mouth, I thought about how Mark and how he possessed what really matters. I had put back that twenty dollar jar of "restoration" cream before checking out and was grateful as I drove away that I had saved the money, for I had been shown that the spirit within, spilling out over tired and broken features is far more refreshing and restorative than any creme has to offer.
Simple meetings with strangers can be the most beautiful, Divinely "staged" reminders, don't you think?
But this isn't about me.
This is about Mark, who I had never met until last night and whom I may never meet again. I would have put him in his fifties, with receding gray hair that was probably once blond and a set of teeth that were chipped and discolored that were likely never his best feature. But he sure did have a warm smile. As he scanned my boxes of feminine hygiene (I always feel badly when the older men or teenage boys have to endure the long seconds of scanning the sordid side of femininity), he looked up at me and in all sincerity, without a trace of inappropriateness, said: "You sure have pretty hair."
"Why, thank you! Really, how nice of you to say."
"Do you color it?"
"Well, kind of...but I've still got these stubborn grays that pop through more and more".
He leaned a little closer over the counter.
"Well, I am sure you have rightly earned every single one of them".
We made small talk as I slid my card strip-side down and when I walked out my spirit was filled up by a man who wasn't good-looking, wasn't wealthy and wasn't prestigious, the things which herds of humans spend up all the minutes of their days pursuing and whom we are told to emulate.
As I buckled up and popped a piece of peppermint gum in my mouth, I thought about how Mark and how he possessed what really matters. I had put back that twenty dollar jar of "restoration" cream before checking out and was grateful as I drove away that I had saved the money, for I had been shown that the spirit within, spilling out over tired and broken features is far more refreshing and restorative than any creme has to offer.
Simple meetings with strangers can be the most beautiful, Divinely "staged" reminders, don't you think?
Comments
He uses the those we least expect :-)
Hugs!