I am already beautiful

I pulled my fare card out of my bag as I walked towards the train station. I was tempted to quicken my pace to match that of the other scurrying commuters, but in time reminded myself that I was not in a hurry, and had no train to catch, as it were.

The usual touts were hanging around outside the station. The donation seekers with their apologetic faces and pleading stance. The insurance agents with their little carpeted and furnished turf, looking slightly cocky and trying desperately to catch someone's eye.

And then there was this new group. Lithe and lanky, in tiny white dresses cinched with red belts, these women, who looked like they were cloned off each other, were selling beauty! With a larger-than-life poster of their spoke model in the corner to cheer them on, they approached the plump, the fluffy and the just plain fat with vigour, oblivious to the public humiliation they were causing.

"Excuse me, Miss? Do you need help to lose weight? Our new treatment is all natural and very effective! Now got promotion!"

I turned around to come face to face with this barely pubescent, slightly malnourished girl, who looked at me as expectantly as her heavily lacquered face would let me.

I threw her my usual line over my shoulder, dismissively, "No thanks. I don't need it."

"What do you mean? You don't need it? But you are quite fat, you know!", she exclaimed in disbelief and horror, her perfectly painted mouth falling open quite unflatteringly.

Wow, this one actually heard me, I thought.

Usually, when I say I don't need it, I get one of three responses.

1) Abject horror and dismay, but no further action, having being paralysed by intense emotions

2) Smirking superiority. You can almost see the thought bubble that says "Denial!" hovering over their heads.

3) Pure indifference as they scan and lock on to their next potential sales. This group seldom hears what you say and depends on non verbal signals to communicate.

But this girl actually responded. I decided to be a little mean and have a little fun.

"Yeah, I don't need it. I am already beautiful."

"But don't you want to be more beautiful?" she asked, a consummate salesperson.

"But what is more beautiful? A smaller waist? Long ruler-straight hair? Fairer skin? Larger breasts? Do you mean, to be thought beautiful, I have to look JUST LIKE YOU?"

Sister girl was dumbfounded. She just stared at me like the concept never occurred to her. I gave her a disarming smile, turned and walked away, my head held high.

I wonder how long it took before she decided to approach someone else. I hope I made her think just a little.