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  1. No Pictures Please

    Thursday, October 25, 2012


    By Rhonda Hansome

    “I’m very sensitive.”  That’s what a gorgeous, tall drink of water murmured as he held my gaze in an intimate embrace.  Hmmm… a handsome, well dressed, (did I mention tall?) sensitive man; who isn’t gay?  My demure lady nether parts burbled a coquettish; “Whoo hoo!!!” as I executed a perfect emotional swan dive into the limpid chocolate pool of his eyes.  It turns out that pool was pretty shallow.  But no he didn’t lie. He was very sensitive (which he clarified three weeks later) about his own needs!  But My Dear Reader* I digress…

    I too am sensitive.  From the age of 5 to 11 (prime candy consuming years) if I ate chocolate, thought about eating chocolate, or looked at someone indulging in the sensual revelry of a Hershey’s bar; I’d have a life threatening asthma attack.  For those unfamiliar with asthma’s attack, think drowning without the playful buoyancy of being surrounded by water.  My asthma vigilantly skulked about my formative years and single handedly, while oh so passive aggressively, halted (running, jumping, squealing and) just about every exuberant, childhood activity with the simple caveat, When You Can’t Breathe – You Die!

    Thankfully I out grew asthma’s vise grip but she left her daunting calling card, a residual lifelong sensitivity to: cat dander (every really close friend of mine has SEVERAL cats), arbitrary allergens (airborne 13 months of the year), bouts of hay fever (striking whenever I don’t have a tissue nearby) and random bug bites invariably producing a hideous bulbous swelling.  That’s right Dear Reader at a moment’s notice, a bug bite gives me 1st place win in the Quasimodo Look-Alike Competition.  Which brings me to today’s blog.



    A mosquito bit me earlier this week.  What for any normal person would be an innocuous, albeit annoying violation of epidermis; for me became an increasingly itchy, swelling, (infected looking?) entity.  It took up residence on my left forearm and then with no discussion or warning subleased my under-eye area!  

    Yes that’s right. Barging into my incredibly busy, but perversely inverse ratio income generating life an appearance altering health issue raised a truly, ugly head.  I’m clinging to the slippery fringes of (ageist/sexist) show business as it is.  Now I’m doing a weekend of shows on Long Island, with a puffy eye, a gimpy arm and not a stitch of make-up on my face.  Suffice it to say children and pit bulls ran from me in terror.  However, the audience at the Bellmore, L.I. Brokerage Comedy Club, loved me. I attribute it to the authentic looking, pre-Halloween scary clown mask they thought I was wearing… After the second show Saturday and dead tired from the drive during which every quarter mile, I checked the prodigious, non-stop growth of puffiness under my left-eye; I finally arrived home at 2:00 AM.  I set the alarm for 5:00 AM.  Why?  Because I still have to pack for my trip that morning to L.A.!

    Yes Dear Reader, I wanted an hour or so of sleep before I leapt into my last minute packing dervish.  You’ve heard of “Beauty Rest”?  In a fitful 2 hour nap I experienced the world’s first case of “Ugly Sleep.”  The alarm rang and my mirror cracked with the image it reflected.  Under my left eye was now a bloated, soft tissue condo threatening my eye with eviction.  I threw a few things into a suitcase, mostly the pre-bug bite “sensitive skin” make-up I’d blown a 100 bucks on so I could delude myself I was worthy of walking among the preternaturally beautiful women of tinsel town.

    I got to a nearby slaughter house - I mean hospital emergency room by 6:45.  I don’t know why the sign said EMERGENCY, since the intake clerk told me to take a seat and wait for (I kid you not) EZ CARE to open at 7:30 AM.   I waited and calculated just how late I would be for my 10 o’clock ride to the airport. 

    Well the doctor who drew the short straw and was on duty saw me and got me out of EZ CARE with just enough time to be a half hour late for my 10 AM ride to the airport.  Clutching an industrial size bottle of antibiotics, I made it through rush hour traffic, airport security and onto the plane; where I sat for two hours waiting for tech support to clear the aircraft.  No problem.  It gave me plenty of time to realize that I would be back in NYC before the 40 (generic, because that’s the way I roll) Keflex antibiotics, would dismiss the swelling occupying my body.

    Sitting on the tarmac, I felt a disturbing resignation envelope me as I realized I’d be in beautiful people L.A. with my scary clown mask face on display to new and old acquaintances alike.  With Halloween still days away,  what could this show biz babe do?  Don dark sunglasses and wave the paparazzi away with a condescending, “No pictures please!!!”

    *Will one of you three folks make me a star already???
    |


  2. 7 comments:

    1. sorry about what u are enduring with the bites and the reaction to them. i predicted what the guy meant by sensitive. that is often how they mean it -- it rarely includes sensitive to those outside of them. well i haven't met every man on earth, but it seems so many just don't get it.

      good wishes from one of the three. :-)

    2. loislane911 said...

      May I say that this blog post is a masterpiece! Truly, you can WRITE. (I guess it proves one must suffer for their art.) Brava, Rhonda! I'll have what you're having, pass the generic Keflex please...

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