It happens to us all. We forget things on our way out the door, like our coffee, our phone, our kids. As a reporter on the go, this happens a lot. But when I forgot to blend in my contouring makeup before my interview with a Native American tribe, it turned into something I never could have anticipated..
I was in the middle of contouring my face one Monday morning when my daughter burst in the room. "Jared killed Steve Jobs!" (Steve Jobs is the name of our corgi). "Not again," I muttered, grabbing my taser and some duct tape and heading to the garage.
After taping my son to a chair so he couldn't kill our other dog, I finally made it to the car. I was going to be late for the big interview with the Chinook Indian tribe on the health benefits of ayahuasca for women who drink too much! I raced to the reservation, picking up dust as I pulled into the parking lot of the meeting place. "So this is what a reservation is like?": I said to myself as I again grabbed my taser.
I walked into a small trailer where an old woman sat behind a desk, apparently the receptionist. I ordered her to ring my interviewee. Before I could even complain about the lighting in the room, she started to point at me and shout, "Skookum! Skookum!" over and over again. Confused, I looked around me. People were starting to enter the building, wondering what the fuss was about. As soon as they caught one look at me, they also started to scream, "Skookum!" at me.
"Listen lady, I don't have all the time in the world," I said, as people started to edge closer to me, their eyes menacing.
"Look, if you don't stop, I'll have to use my taser!" They didn't stop. Someone started burning what appeared to be sage and led me closer to what looked like a funeral pyre. They all started hitting me.
"Why are you doing this?" I screamed. "Don't you know who I am? I am a reporter and the franchise owner of the Denny's on 5th Street!"
One man came out of the group and asked, "Mia, is that you?" It was my brother's friend, George from high school.. "What's that shit all over your face? Everyone thinks you're a ghost."
Offended, I said, "I am trying to get rid of the wrinkles, okay? I just spent $5,000 on treatments!" He said, "No, you have face paint all over you."
I looked in the mirror hanging on the wall. My first thought was "Oh my god! Now people are going to know I contour!" A secret I had kept for ages as I told people my face was all natural! I also realized I shouldn't have worn my Native American-inspired headdress and clothes. That probably didn't help the whole "She's a ghost" thing.
Just a lesson in life: don't forget to blend your fucking contouring or you might be killed by a band of angry Native Americans thinking you are an evil ancestral spirit.