Victory and Defeat

If you skipped this blog because you thought I was going to talk about the elections - nah nah nah boo boo.  As I have often said, I find politics exceedingly boring.  Yes, there is intrigue and yes I watch "House of Cards" but seriously, it's all about money and power, and not at all about what's right or wrong.  Cynic? Um yes.

No, no, I am going to speak about my own, personal victory and defeat, all of which happened today!

DEFEAT
Let's start with the defeat, and get it out of the way.

My trip to the Post Office (anyone living in Israel will now start nodding and then begin shuddering, reliving their own Doar nightmares):

Got a petek (slip) in my mailbox to pick up a package that was "registered."  And addressed to my husband.

Stood in line for 1/2 hour because of the two women working there, one was busy with an irritated woman who insisted on something that was not possible.  Shocker.

The argument went on and on, then the people waiting in line joined in, yelling at her to move along so that the rest of us could get helped.

She yelled back that it was not her fault and she wasn't leaving.

Finally the other worker got the brilliant idea of asking if anyone had a package to pick up (much much faster than other processes that are done at the post office, like paying bills, receiving bypass surgery, buying/selling a car, adopting a cat, etc. etc.).

I was first in line for packages!  Surely this would be a victory!

She looked at my ID card, which HAS MY HUSBAND'S NAME ON IT AS WELL.

• No, she said, I need his ID card.
• But he is away and his name is right here!  Look!
• Do you have a picture of his ID card?
• No.
• Well come back with a picture of his ID card.

Now let me just say that the last time I did this, they accepted my ID card just fine.  But as we all know the rules here change depending on the mood of the worker. DEFEAT.

Second wave of defeat: As I was driving home I was thinking, I have to ask my husband to scan his ID card and email it to me.  Then I remembered - I have a scan of his ID card, I could have printed it out and brought it with me. Sometimes my own stupidity shocks me.

VICTORY

I have lived in Israel for over three years.  At no time have I purchased makeup.  Not that I wear much, but when you need a refill, you need a refill.

I have always waited for a trip to America to buy makeup. Why?  Because the crazy cosmetic ladies who sit in Super Pharm on their little stools and wait for you to glance their way will pounce on you and ask if you want a makeover and I have always been afraid of them.  They are pushy and they scare me. There I've said it.

But today something came over me, mostly the dire need for more face powder.  I walked into the Cosmetics Area!  Within a nanosecond bleached blond lady #1 asked if she could help me.  I looked at her, smiled, and said, no thanks, I am fine.  I did it!  I really did it!  And do you know what? She left me alone!

Then dyed blacker than black hair lady #1 saw me.  She wasn't going to let me go.  She probably thought bleached blond lady was a loser.  She asked what she could do for me.  I thought to myself, "Seriously, woman, you apply makeup like your face is a birthday cake, and frankly you  look utterly ridiculous and you want me to ask you for beauty advice?"  Anyway, I said no to her too! And she left me alone.

After I made my purchases and walked out, I thought that perhaps they left me alone because they just didn't want to waste their time on me. If they took a look at me, plain old Susan, they probably figured they'd be wasting their time on someone who apparently had no interest in looking younger or more lovely, or like a birthday cake.

Who cares, I now have new face powder and I have defeated SuperPharm!

You gotta kinda take your wins where you can.