"Uh, is it really free?" you ask suspiciously.

"Well, if you decide you like the products we use, you have the option to by them, but the makeover itself is absolutely free of charge," she replies, beaming.

"Uh...ok. I'll go for it." You follow her to the cosmetics counter, let her sit you in a tall, swiveling chair, and feel a large bib being attached around you neck by some anonymous cosmetician. As if a snowstorm had descended upon you, in an instant a small team of brush-wielding people in white smocks begin dabbing, poking, drawing, and arranging your face and hair.

An hour later, they finally let you look into a mirror. You have on fuschia lipstick, purple eyeliner, sparkly blue eyeshadow, and blush that looks like it might belong on some sort of saltwater fish. Your hair is reminiscent of Madonna in her "Holiday" phase.

You look like a total, complete, 100% babe.

As you express how thrilled you are with your new look, you ask about the specific products they used. As they do a line-item synopsis of what it would take to recreate this spectacle of modern art, you realize that in order to buy those products and maintain your fabulous new look, you'd have to spend almost everything you've been saving from your part-time job at Dairy Hut. This is money you've been saving to buy a dress, on the off-chance that someone asks you to the Big Dance. On the other hand, things haven't been going so well with Eddie, so maybe your new look is what it will take to catch someone's attention, thus garnering you a date. What do you do?

Do you buy the makeup? ...or say, "Thanks for the makeover" and leave?