When I was 21, I woke with a backache.

It was the first time I ever experienced the pains of aging and I remember thinking "I think my warantee ran out a bit early..." Ironically, this was the big year for Body Shops to start sweeping the nation. These weren't for automobiles, but rather for European-styled eco-friendly, nouvelle-couture, animal-loving froo-froo cosmetics. I figured it was a case of false advertising. If it was called "The Body Shop" then it should sell bodies, preferably new ones where I could go and upgrade. I pictured myself just walking in, looking at the selection and pointing: "I want that one." Pay with credit card and done.

But, to be perfectly honest, I'm not so good at girly-stuff, let alone ultra-girly-eco-body stuff, so I imagine it wouldn't turn out well.

It'd run more like:

Me: "Excuse me..."

Shopgal: "May I help you?"

Me: "Yeah, this is The Body Shop, right?"

Shopgal: "Across the globe and everywhere!"

Me: "Rrrright. Anyway, I'd like a new one."

Shopgirl: "A new what? Blush?"

Me: "No."

Shopgirl: "Lipstick?"

Me: "No."

Shopgirl: "Concealer?"

Me: "No, geez, what are you trying to say about me?"

Shopgirl: "Nothing. The blotchy combination-skin look is very In."

Me: "That's what I need."

Shopgirl: "More combination skin? May I suggest an avocado and honey scrub?"

Me: "No, a new body."

Shopgirl: "Well, we sell these floor models in Shell, Honey, Amber, Cocoa and Earth for the seasonal price of $1.7 million."

Me: "I can't afford that!"

Shopgirl: "Well, it's cheaper than the surgery."

Me: "Well, how much for a look?"

Shopgirl: "A Look?"

Me: "What's the difference?"

Shopgirl: "The capital letter makes it Very Important."

Me: "Oh."

Shopgirl: "Let's start with a color palette."

Me: "A what?"

Shopgirl: "Now are you a blush-comma-warm-tone or a pale-comma-cool-tone?"

Me: "I'm a dark-comma-off-tone. I can't sing."

Shopgirl: "I... see. Well, are you an autumn?"

Me: "Do I look like one?"

Shopgirl: "Perhaps."

Me: "Sounds great."

Shopgirl: "Then if you look over here, you can have a custom-look designed by our palette charts that will make you look just like one of these models."

Me: "I thought it would be my look. They all look the same."

Shopgirl: "They're genetically-enhanced humans."

Me: "Ah."

Shopgirl: "So here we are: an autumn palette with Number Two skin tone should wear Honey-Acorn concealer, Apple Orchard facial powder, Burnt Apricot blusher and Apricot-A-Plenty lip gloss over Pumpkin Butter lip base and Pumpkin Spice lip liner..."

Me: "Now I'm hungry."

Shopgirl: "...Your eyes should be shadowed in Autumn Mist, Autumn Noon and Autumn Summer Shimmer Gold-on-the-Rocks. I can give you a makeover; what have you got on now?"

Me: "A sweater and jeans."

Shopgirl: "No, what makeup are you wearing?"

Me: "None."

Shopgirl: "Huh, I'm not familiar with that brand. Is it European?"

Me: "No, I mean I'm not wearing any makeup."

Shopgirl: "Oh dear. You came in just in time."

Me: "I did?"

Shopgirl: "Most assuredly."

Me: "Is 'assuredly' a word?"

Shopgirl: "Keep still as I use this Lily Wash to remove any excess oil from your pores. If you get any in your mouth we'll have to call the 800 number."

Me: "MMPH?!?"

Shopgirl: "There now. What about moisturizer?"

Me: "Mmph?"

Shopgirl: "I beg your pardon?"

Me: "What about it?"

Shopgirl: (Sigh.) "What kind do you use?"

Me: "I don't."

Shopgirl: "Well, you know, you really should. You're not getting any younger."

Me: "I beg your pardon?"

Shopgirl: "Let's try a Mango Frappe Mask with Green Tea Leaf extracts. That ought to do it."

Me: "Do what, exactly?"

Shopgirl: "Do all the good it's supposed to do, silly!"

Me: "Ah yes, silly me. What's that?"

Shopgirl: "It's a curling brush."

Me: "For what?"

Shopgirl: "Your lashes. I'll be applying the Autumn Breeze Soft Eyeliner after I curl your lashes."

Me: "Why do I need curly lashes?"

Shopgirl: "Everyone wants curly lashes."

Me: "I don't."

Shopgirl: "Of course you do.

Me: "Ow."

Shopgirl: "Don't worry, that's the Tea Leaf working."

Me: "No, I think you've got my eyelid."

Shopgirl: "No pain, no gain."

Me: "I don't think this is what they meant."

Shopgirl: "Now hold still as I gently apply the Gold-Shimmer."

Me: "Where?"

Shopgirl: "Everywhere. Glitter glow is very In."

Me: "But then how do I get it out?"

Shopgirl: "Out? It's already Out?"

Me: "No! Out of my clothes? My hair? My eyes...?"

Shopgirl: "Well, you can use one of our non-animal tested, purely natural cleansing agents."

Me: "Which is different than a non-animal tested, purely natural cleaner."

Shopgirl: "Oh my, yes."

Me: "How?"

Shopgirl: "They're spelled differently and the cleanser costs about $35 more."

At this point I could see one of two options occuring: either I'd pick something mundane and purchase it (ignoring the whopping price tag for something like Kumquat-Ginger Body Marmalade) as a polite way to exit the situation, or begin smashing things (beginning, most likely, with the plasticine shop girl). As this is simply a matter of speculation, I opt for the latter, which makes prettier pictures in my head.

I guess I'll take two aspirin, curl up on the couch and deal.