Perhaps I can't be improved on?

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For the last few weeks the folk at Jericho Spa Collection, Dead Sea Beauty Products, have had a stand at Chadstone, the local mega-shopping centre.

Terribly earnest young men and women pick people out from the passing crowd to sell them on the benefits of using the primeval ooze from the Dead Sea to give them eternal beauty.

I have walked past them at least six times now.

They never approach me.

Does this mean that my inherent, intrinsic beauty cannot be improved on?

Or do they automatically realise that I swam in the Dead Sea, albeit 27 years ago, and that I am as good as I am going to get?

Or do I just not fit the profile of a person who will fall for pseudo-scientific cosmetic quackery?

Yep. Probably the last one.

◊◊◊

Some years ago, a similar, but different, crowd gave Margaret a trial tub of some eye rejuvenating goo, promising that it would do wonders for her eyes in a week. Margaret duly used it every day for a week and returned to the shop.

"Oh darrhling! You look soooo much younger!" oiled the attendant.

"Really?" asked Margaret.

"Oh darrhling, yes! You look aaabsolutely divine!"

"That's interesting" said the divine one, "you see I only used the gel on one eye. Can you tell me which eye I applied it to?"

".....(gurgling sound)..."
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