Beautiful, said Sam

We had lunch at the GPO. We were going to roll our own sushi, it had always looked like fun, but that restaurant was full to over flowing and our, usual, Japanese restaurant, next door, had tables to burn. Literally, matches anyone?

I love that alleyway at lunchtime, it is very cool, it matches the chicness of Japanese food – Victorian architecture, Japanese cuisine, fusion. Nothing quite so gorgeous.

Then we headed to Myer so Sam could buy new "beauty products," as he calls them. How over the top white can a department floor get, it reminded me of those minimalist friends of Edina. I wanted sunglasses. Sam's usual moisturiser and facial scrub were packaged in a handy (striped, cliched masculine) carry bag, as he kept pointing out to me, with a third skin product, of some sort, all priced at the same price as just the moisturiser on its own, so it was a bargain.

“And you get the bag for free.”

I suspect I should have been impressed.

"But, it's just landfill, let's face it."

"I was going to give it to you," he said without missing a beat.

But then, there was the two hundred dollar bag that had everything in it. Oh decisions, decisions.

Suddenly, my face felt a little dry, so I availed myself of the testers on the counter, as Sam made his choices. By the time I had applied the third moisturiser, Sam said, “You don’t do it like that, you put it on your hand, you see, like this. You don't put it directly onto your face.”

“Why? What can happen?”

“You may not like one of them.”

“Then I could go wash it off, surely?” I smiled. “It’s not like my face is going to explode, now is it?”

He shook his head. He thought I was a philistine, I could tell by the look on his face. He laughed, "You don't get it, do you?" 

I had on eight different moisturisers by the time I was finished. I'd tried all the testers.

"Feel my skin," I said. "I can feel the improvement already."

Then, as the shop assistant rang up the sale, there was another special, if you bought two, or more, products, you got a free whatsit. Apparently, three tubes of goo in one carry bag only counts as one product and not three. I mean, I did really understand that, but I was just playing dumb. Sam shook his head again and rolled his eyes at me. So, suddenly, there were more decisions to be made. I told him he was mad when he reached for the second carry bag of tubes, just to get, what seemed like, repeats of what he'd already got.

"But, it's free stuff," he said.

"There's nothing free in this world, babe."

Apparently, do you believe it, I'm too cynical.

"You are a marketers dream."

He held his finger to his mouth, as his eyes giddily took in the products and the promises.

We were walking back up Bourke Street, we'd just crossed over Queen Street. We were at the new super stop tram stop pedestrian crossing when I glanced across the road. 

I looked back and smiled at him. 

"What?" he said.

I took hold of his hand and said, "Come on."

I guided him across the crossing.

He laughed. "No, no, we don’t have time. You are going to make me late."

"Oh, there is always time, don’t be silly. It will be changed over very soon."

"Is your boss okay with you being back late?"

"Perfectly," I said. "The salt mines will function just fine for the extra five minutes that I'm not there."

There was a crowd of people in the foyer as we pushed the revolving door to the entrance to the RACV Club.

"There she is," I said. "Beautiful."

The beautiful green Bristol in the foyer, and I don't think we had dropped in to pay our respects this week, as yet...

"Beautiful," said Sam.

"Don’t you think she is more beautiful than any other day?"

"Of course," said Sam. "More beautiful."

"Just like you." I reached over and touched the bag his new moisturisers were in and grinned. He smiled and motioned towards the door with a head flick.