Hook, Line and Sinker

Finally I had some downtime. A block of about 30 minutes where I had nothing that needed doing, nothing urgent anyway. Nowhere I had to be. No one I needed to meet. Nothing that needed cooking, cleaning or folding. I had this 30 minute window where I could switch my brain off from a very intense day at work and a draining commute home in the miserable Atlanta rush-hour traffic. Finally, I had an opportunity to watch me some trashy, mind-numbing but completely addictive reality TV.

True I could have used that 30 minutes to find out how many points up or down the DOW and NASDAQ had closed at today. To brush up on my world history compliments of the History Channel or help figure out the current condition of the earth's permanent eco-system courtesy of National Geographic. But seriously, where's the fun in that? And it's a rhetorical question, cos y'all know the answer, if your honest. I refuse to believe I'm the only rubber-necker of train wreck TV. Refuse.

Anyway, there I was comfortable and ready. Remote in hand. Moving up and down and up and down the current TV listings. But there was nothing on. I continue "paging up" and "paging down". I must be missing something, there can't be NOTHING on. Not a Kardashian, not a cat-fighting model wannabe, not a celebrity refusing to believe they really do belong in rehab. Nothing. I'm mad, but I have to watch something. I promised myself 30 minutes of trashy TV and I'll be damned if I'm not going to get it.

Enter Cindy Crawford and her "Meaningful Beauty". Oh yes, I was desperate, I went down the infomercial route. Don't judge, at least I didn't settle on Vince (of the ShamWow fame) and his headset, blatantly stolen from Madonna's 1990 "Blond Ambition Tour". I have more class than that. Instead I allowed Cindy, who lets face it, looks amazing for a 40-something year old, convince me that her melon, enzyme, antioxidant extract beauty products will be the answer to all my ageless skin needs. She threw out all the key words, "increased collagen production", "removal of crows feet and dark circles", "radiant", "firm", "glowing", oh Cindy stop, you had me at "crows feet". Where is my phone and where the hell is my wallet? I need to be one of the first 500 callers, if I want to double my purchase for half the price. "Damn it phone, where are you?". "Hurry, there are only 8 minutes left to take advantage of this once in a lifetime offer". "Shut up, I can't find my phone". "There you are phone, now what's that number?"

Sitting there waiting for the phone number to reappear on screen gave me just enough time to take hold of my senses. Was I seriously on the verge of buying something from an infomercial? You've got to be kidding me. Who am I right now? I don't recognize myself. I am the mocker of all things infomercial, not a willing participant. How did Cindy rope me in like this? Obviously when I switched off my brain in preparation for some mindless TV, I'd switched off my common sense too, as a result I almost fell for it, hook, line and sinker. See how dangerous an emotionally drained girl with cell phone and wallet at only an arms length away can be?