Evil Cosmetics and the Condiments that Vanquish Them

   Being the well-prepared individual that I am, I recently purchased a new tube of mascara because my old one was running low and I wanted to be prepared for the day I needed a new one.  I ventured out the 44.8 miles to Alexandria where the holy Wal-Mart lies.  I have been a loyal Target shopper for as long as I can remember, but I'll admit I have been unfaithful to my beloved Target and have been frequenting Wal-Mart lately due to the slightly lower prices (however I do sacrifice competent employees and hygienic clientele for my quest to save a few pennies).  Nonetheless.  I found myself at Wal-Mart, amidst the cretins, trying to find the things on my list, purchase them, and remove myself from the store as soon as humanly possible.

   There I was in the cosmetics aisle, looking for the familiar orange tube of eyelash goop that I apply to my lashes every morning in order to look lovely, like this:



   Way creepy picture, right?  Well never mind, I'm illustrating a point here.  Anyway, I was perusing the makeup section in order to find my eyelash goop so that I could get the rest of the things on my list and get out of there as expeditiously as possible before I ended up on peopleofwalmart.com or something...  I found the familiar orange tube, grabbed one off the peg, placed it in my basket, and moved on feeling satisfied that my mission for eyelash goo had been completed.  Oh how I was terribly wrong.  This is a picture of the lovely product that I use every morning to become beautified:

Here is a picture of the evil impostor product that I accidentally grabbed instead:

  
   Well played, Cover-girl.  Well played.  You managed to trick me, a poor unsuspecting consumer, into purchasing WATERPROOF eyelash goop, rather than the lovely normal eyelash goop.  I did not discover this deceitful marketing ploy until after I had had the offensive product in my cupboard for several weeks, had opened the package, and had applied it to my lashes.

   Admittedly, I am a bit of a messy eyelash goop applicator.  It is virtually impossible for me to get through a morning without black smudges everywhere.  This is where the beauty of NORMAL eyelash goop truly shines.  I can simply use a Q-tip and a drop of water to erase any smudginess that occurs and create the flawless and perfect lashes you see above*.

* Of course by "flawless" and "perfect" I mean "mediocre and not frightening".

  

   So on the fateful morning in question, I go to erase my errors with the tried and true Q-tip/water method and IT DIDN'T WORK.  What folly was this?  Why were my methods failing me at 7:32 a.m.?  I grabbed the tube and looked closely at its deceitful camouflage.  And then I saw it.  The most evil words in the cosmetic language.  WATERPROOF.  Sigh.  I had been foiled.  Waterproof mascara should be reserved for, and sold only to, Olympic synchronized swimmers and particularly misty eyed brides.  That is it.  It should not be placed near the regular stuff where it quite certainly will confuse and irritate regular consumers.

   In an attempt to see the proverbial "silver lining", I figured I would persevere and use up the loathsome product in order to save another $8.99 (and my dignity).  I wore the hydrophobic cosmetic all day and had nearly forgotten about its presence on my eyelids... that is until it came time to wash my face that evening.

   Again, let me remind you of yet another reason why normal mascara is superior to waterproof mascara.  BECAUSE IT COMES OFF WITH WATER.  As I was scrubbing my face that night, I suddenly got the sinking feeling that this crap was not coming off.  Not at all.  It was like someone had rubbed sooty candle wax and chewing gum together then wiped it on my eyelashes.  This is not OK.  I continued to scrub, but to no avail.  Worried that I might scrub my eyelashes right off, I consulted Google, the oracle of all of life's answers, searching for a solution to my problem.

   Google informed me that a person such as myself, with no makeup remover in her home, and only water and face wash to arm myself with, must consult the kitchen for a more effective weapon to vanquish the vile waterproof cosmetic product.  My salvation lay in olive oil.  OLIVE OIL.

   I will give you a moment to digest the ramifications of this.

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  Yeah.  Exactly what I thought.  However, desperate as I was to remove the stubborn goo from my eyes, I was willing to try anything.  Google instructed me to soak a cotton ball in the olive oil and place it on my eyelid for at least 30 seconds in order to begin dissolving the mascara.  As I was doing this, I couldn't help but imagine the scene from the Wizard of Oz where the witch was melting because Dorothy threw a pail of water on her (incidentally my favorite movie of all time).  It occurred to me that waterproof mascara must be even more evil than the Wicked Witch of the West because water could destroy her, but it proved no match for the mascara.  Innnnteresting...

  

   Eventually the olive oil persevered and the evil mascara finally came off.  I will be giving the offensive product to a friend of mine who (for whatever reason) is fond of it's hydrophobic ways.  I, on the other hand, will be purchasing a new tube of regular, normal, water-soluble eyelash goo.  So much for saving $8.99, but there are just some things in this world that cannot be tolerated.