Mean Streets of Boston, 1. Alicia, 0.

On my walk from Downtown Crossing to work this morning, I stopped at my usual Dunkin Donuts to get my morning coffee. (Nope, still haven't given it up yet.) There was a long line and a woman two people behind me sort of stepped out of line and said to no one in particular, "Does the line usually go pretty quickly?" Now, having gone to this particular Dunkin Donuts since it opened maybe over a year ago, I could have spoken at length as to how the turn around time ebbs and flows depending on who's behind the counter and how many construction workers with laundry lists of orders are in front of you. The guy behind me was plugged into his iPod, so I said, "Most of time" and left it at that. After I said that I saw the lady look at her watch again, and to be a bit more accurate, I followed up with, "Unless you're getting a sandwich. Those take awhile since the construction guys usually have big orders." I assumed she'd either say, "Thank you" or maybe nothing at all, but I definitely wasn't expecting her to step completely out of line, turn to me and say, "I'd love to give you a makeover!"
Now, like anyone else, I have my good and bad days, and while I generally don't wear makeup or the absolute latest fashions, I don't think I stand out, but rather, blend in with the crowd. To my embarrassment, she held out her business card and told me that she was a Mary Kay representative and she'd love to help me with my "look." She asked me where I lived, and I said, "Southie," which troubled her a bit. "That's a bit far from me, but hey, I'll come by anytime." With that she left the store and I was left with her card and a slightly deflated ego.
Today's encounter was not nearly as unexpected as time I was getting a manicure at a place in Southie, and the woman doing my nails asked mid-polish, "You want chin wax too?"