Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I'm Not Really A Waitress

That's right, honey, you're a nail polish.

Oh, you mean the person wearing you? What is she? If this is her signature color, and her days are taken up by waitressing, I think I have a guess in mind. It starts with "p" and ends with (cover your eyes, young readers) "rostitute" or (OK, open your eyes now) "erson who doesn't have to stand on her feet all day to make a good living."

I assume this name is a nod to the stereotype of the would-be starlet who flies out to the Big City and, just until she gets her break, takes a job slinging burgers. (Do people in Los Angeles still eat burgers? She is probably slinging macrobiotic fiddlehead ferns. [Incidentally, Slingin' Fiddleheads is my new band name.]) Of course, when we check in on her in fifteen years, she's still there, calling the customers "sweetheart" and urging them to try a slice of the cherry pie (acai berry flan).

So, I guess my question here is: is that someone we really want to channel? I mean, maybe I'm just not fabulous enough, but rarely do I wake up in the morning and think, "Today I want to decrease my glamour quotient, you know, but I also want something that says 'I'm just not good enough for my dreams.' I wonder if any one product can fulfill both these needs. It can? And it also says 'I've abandoned my family and home for a shot at fame, but I'm stuck in a menial job while my rapidly fading looks make my chances of success ever more depressingly negligible'? Thanks, OPI!"

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

What's Dune?

What's Dune? What's DUNE?

By Liet-Kynes, OPI! You are going to find out in a hurry when a sandworm emerges to eat your melange trawler and you don't even have your riding hooks. Anyway, I better stop typing before the Butlerian Jihad finds me, but Shai-Hulud have mercy on your soul.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Don't Socra-Tease Me!

OPInterlocutor: Why have you left the Lyceum, Socrates? And what are you doing standing in front of the Sephora?

Socrates: Alcibiades got jealous when I was always hanging outside the gymnasium. But he doesn't seem to have a problem as long as I settle for teenage girls. What brings you here?

OPI: I am here to deliver a new nail polish shade.

Socrates: What is it called?

OPI: You will think me mad when I tell you.

Socrates: Is it a hideous color?

OPI: No...well, actually, yes. But that is not the reason. I have named it after you; it is called "Don't Socra-Tease Me!"

Socrates: ...Have you been sniffing hemlock?

OPI: Please, do you expect me to take advice on beauty products from someone whose idea of a well-put-together outfit includes gladiator sandals and a toga? Paris Hilton isn't hosting the Symposium tonight.

Socrates: When it comes to nail polish names, I know only that I know nothing. Will you enlighten me and tell me what makes a good nail polish name?

OPI: The best nail polish name, Socrates, is that which is beloved by the consumers.

Socrates: But is a nail polish name good because it is beloved by the consumers, OPI? Or is it beloved by the consumers because it is good?

OPI: You don't seem to understand how this industry works, Socrates. We have a few bowls of wine, toss an encyclopedia in the air, and throw a javelin at it. Whatever word it hits, we pay a slave boy to think of a word that sounds kind of like it and slap the name on the bottle. Give a few free samples to the disciples of Aphrodite, and bam! Suddenly they're lining up at the agora to tell you how witty your nail polish name is.

Socrates: Look, if you wanted to tell me you're a sophist, you could have just said so.

OPI: Anyway, I've got to run. I have a meeting scheduled with Sappho to work some product integration into her latest poem.

Socrates: I was wrong. I do know something. You guys suck.