Foot in Mouth ... Again

A couple of weeks ago, I went to Sephora with a friend. We both wanted some new makeup, and when I buy makeup, I have to have someone else, ideally a professional, put it on for me. This serves two purposes:

1. I'm borderline inept at applying my own makeup. I hear a lot of "Hold on, there's something on your face" when I leave the house after having done my own makeup.

2. Makeup that doesn't come from the drug store is expensive. The older I get, the more I realize I need to invest in products that cost more than $3.99, but it still pains me. If I'm going to spend $50 on liquid foundation, I've got to get something else out of it, and I consider the makeup application my own private free gift.

Anyway, after about 20 minutes of browsing, I picked up some products and found a very nice African-American makeup artist to help me decide what would work best with my skin tone and texture. As I sat in her chair, we started talking about various products we had tried and what worked and what didn't. She told me about a new deodorant that wasn't worth buying. I offered the following:

"Have you ever tried the Tarte Sunburst self-tanner?"

Long pause.

"No, I've never given that one a shot."

Why I would ask an African-American woman about her self-tanning habits, I do not know. It really seems like I should have thought that one through a bit more before it escaped my mouth. She probably doesn't have the same skincare needs as my near-translucent self does. And, in case you were wondering where this is going, my Sephora incident reminded me of one of my near-constant dilemmas: When something  awkward and/or inane is said, is it best to call attention to the idiocy or move on?

When I saw my vet out at a social function, rather than saying "hello" or "how are you" like a normal person, I led with "My dogs are good." No greeting, no lead-in, just "my dogs are good." Then I promptly ran away and pretended the moment had never happened.

When I accidentally ask a friend about a relationship that has since ended or a family member that has passed on, I say, "Well, that was awkward of me, wasn't it?" afterwards. And, unfortunately, I usually can't stop myself from giving a jab on the arm, too.

At Sephora, I went with the move on/avoidance approach, but I'm probably pretty evenly split on how often I make a joke and how often I deny the moment ever happened. What about you?