The Time I Bought a Face Mask

So... the airport.

It was about 12.20pm.

I was walking through the airport with dad, picking out stuff to buy at duty free.

'Malibu! Woohoo!'

Then, graciously, dad give me the change and said.

'I've gotta go get on the flight now. Use the rest of this kiwi cash'

$25 to spend!!!

So, I browsed several stores, hurrying, because it was actaully bording time for my flight, and eventually I bought some rotorua, al natural, facial mask. So basically, face mud.

So, really hurrying now, bording time was 12.30, I scurried to my seat in the terminal. My new purchase, my face mask, was clenched tight in my hand. I sat down and released a sigh. They hadn't called me up yet.

I finally began to take notice of my surroundings and noticed that sitting directly opposite me was a indian family, each dressed in their traditional clothes with a red spot on their foreheads. They were eating burger king and the smell of their burgers was wafting over, engulfing me. I couldn't ignore it. I couldn't ignore them.

I looked up, and glanced away quickly.

I looked up again.

I noticed one of the men staring at me a little intently...

I decided to challenge his gaze and hold eye contact. Instead of embarressing him, it was the chance he'd been waiting for.

Man (in a thick Indian accent) 'Hello. Excuse me. Where did you get the mud?'

Me: 'oh, just upstairs'

Man: 'upstairs?'

Me: yes. Just upstairs.

Man: oh.

Man: and how much did you pay?

Me: (a little taken back) oh, like, twenty dollars

EVERYONE SUDDDENLY SITS UP A LITTLE BIT STRAIGHTER

Man: TWENTY DOLLAR?

Me: yes

Man: Twenty?

Me: yes

Man: ...so. (Looks at wife) twenty dollar. Upstairs.

Me: yes

Man: (looking intently at me) shambu tghe shay use it sha tarahat

Me: mmmm! Yes!

Man: before? Harabushi shi tamakains

Me: I'm sorry. What?

Man: Shara hi she bo. Before?

Me: I'm sorry what?

Man: sha-hari. Sho, have you ushed it beshore?

Me: I'm sorry. I can't hear you!

Man: (looks at wife in confusion who in turn gestures towards me) HAVE YOU EVER USED THE MUD?

Entire terminal falls silent and evesdrops in on our conversation.

Man: THE MUD. HAVE YOU EVER USED THE FACE MUD BEFORE?

Me: … uh. No

Man: No?

Me: no

Man: YOU KNOW. WE SEE MUD FOR 29 DOLLLAR

Me: oh?

Man: YES. MUD FOR 29 DOLLAR

Me: oh

Man: YOU GET FOR VERY CHEAP

Me: Yes

Man: UPSTAIRS YOU SAY?

Me: yes.

He nodded to himself, then began to speak rapidly in Indian to his wife, then, like an intense game of chinese whispers, she turned her head to the woman sitting beside her, pointing and gesturing in my direction. That lady then turns to her husband.Amidst the babble of excited indian, I heard the words 'twenty dollar', and 'face mud' over and over.

The second man turned to face me with an intensity which rivalled all the intense gazes I was getting from everyone else in the terminal.

2^nd Man: “You say you buy face mud for twenty dollar?”

Me: *siiigh* Yes.

2^nd man: Can I see?

Me: ...

2nd Man: Can I see mud?

I make eye contact with the old white grandma beside me. Subtly she shakes her head. But the 2^nd indian man is insistant. Resigned, I hand over the mud. I watch as he excitedly shows it off to both sides of his extended indian family.

2^nd Man: two. Oh. Twenty. Twenty you say?

Me: look. Just take the freaking receipt.

I hand him the recipt and it is studied just as, if more more intently, than the actual packaging.

Indian men: Look! Look! $1.18 GST! Twenty Dollar!

Finally, FINALLY. They tire of it. I get my purchase back, AND the receipt. The two men confirm once again that, I bought it for twenty dollars, just upstairs. And they set off, taking two of the many surrounding Indian women with them, on a hunt for the twenty dollar face mud. And everyone in the whole terminal breathed a sigh of relief and went back to whatever else it was they were doing.