City slicker

Yesterday, when I was running, a horrible little fly lodged itself in my eye. I ploughed on for a couple of kilometres, all the time rubbing and probing and trying to get the thing out. It wouldn't budge and I couldn't see properly. What to do? Then, I spied a parked car. Nobody seemed to be around (I hadn't yet encountered the man in the neon-pink hat), so I leaned down to one of the wing mirrors. I had just located the fly and flicked it away, when a voice boomed out (I translate) "you don't need to worry about your make-up here. You ain't in the big city now, you know!" Mortified, I stood up, but before I could even start my pathetic explanation, the stout country bumpkin had moved on, presumably to hassle other vulnerable, innocent souls.