You couldn't make it up

A young lady boarded the train at Ascot and occupied the vacant seat adjacent to me this morning. She dug around in her bag for a while, then produced two female type magazines and a particularly large make up bag. She then proceeded to give herself a good going over. I'm talking the whole shebang here; base, blusher, eyeliner, lash curly thing. It took her the rest of the journey (about an hour from Ascot). I knew we were approaching Waterloo, because the careful application of powders and creams suddenly speeded up, it was watching Jackson Pollock at work. When the train arrived at it's destination, she stuffed everything back into her bag (including the unread magazines) and exited with everyone else.

All I could think was that it was a good job she found a seat, or else she would have had to turn up at work looking like a bag of spanners.