You could see Pretty Pauline behind the Chanel Cosmetic counter at the famous department store four days a week.
A natural saleswoman, she knew the makeup line inside and out. She could dazzle you with statistics and awesome updates on the latest, best, “new” wonder product.
Every other month, she was on the phone calling her best clients – advising them of a new promotion and the sexy new Gift With Purchase. She seduced the ladies with pretty promises of saving them a “Special gift.”
Women are gaga for free cosmetics and samples. We love tiny little samples of lipsticks, eyeshadows and magical mythical potions to hold back the hands of time.
Pauline had developed a long list of fans. Somedays, it looked like she was holding court with her “work friends,” as she called them at home.
She was home from work at 5 pm. It took an hour to get home and she usually arrived tired and a little cranky. Her husband had several bottles of Chardonnay chilled in the downstairs bar, at all times.
To say Pretty Pauline morphed into Cranky Pauline is accurate.
She arrived home tired, spent and grumpy. The neighbors barking dog bugged her. Not being able to find parking in their cramped neighborhood was a problem – at least one night a week. They had an agreement, she would do all the grocery shopping if he would start dinner. Most nights he arrived home just before her and quickly put a pot of water on to boil and opened bag of lettuce and poured it in a bowl.
After her third glass of wine, she was bit like Elizabeth Taylor in”Who is Afraid of Virginia Wolf?”
Pretty Pauline evaporated into thin air. Moody and generally inconsolable was front and center.
Did the real Pauline show up?
Her husband tried. They tried marriage counseling. Nothing worked. He left. She moved to a studio near Santana Row. She started dating and, in the beginning, men loved Pretty Pauline.
Then, not so much. In time, with help,Pauline learned to “put her fangs back in” and to chill.