Like an Angry Koala

I am currently sitting backstage during tech for The Life of Galileo, and I am bored out of my mind.  This show has been running so perfectly that there is nothing interesting for me to do.

It is going extremely well, which is a good thing, because it means the actual performance will go well.

It is going extremely smoothly, which is a bad thing, because it means nothing funny has happened to me lately.

Instead, I have to rely on one of my old standby stories.  The time I had a severe allergic reaction.

When I was in the eighth grade I was cast as Smee in my middle school’s production of Peter Pan. 

 The show was phenomenal.  We had gorgeous sets, four rented costumes, and a flight rig.  We had four shows, each in front of a sold out, 650 seat house.  It was awesome.

After our last show, we were all dreading strike.  I went into the dressing room to get cleaned up.  Until now I had been using baby wipes to remove my makeup.  Unfortunately, I had run out.

I started asking around, looking for something to get the gunk off of my face.  Finally, someone offered me this cream they had.

I have always had sensitive skin.  I’m allergic to most shaving creams, lotions, and even adhesives.  Unfortunately, I didn't think about this when I took the offered makeup remover.

I started rubbing this cream on my face and all of my makeup came right off.  It was working great.  It was quick, effective, and not that messy.  Then my face started to swell.

I didn’t panic.   Much.  I walked quickly out of the dressing room and tried to find someone to help me.

I stumbled into one of the directors who grabbed a parent to run out and get me some medicine.  They then sat me in the ticket booth and ordered me not to move.

Apparently ever since I had left the dressing room, my face had swollen to about twice its normal size.  I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass in the ticket booth window.  I looked like an angry koala.

I sat there for half an hour.  Eventually, the parent returned from the store and handed me the Benadryl.  I sat in the ticket booth a popped allergy medicine until the end of strike.  While everyone else was hard at work cleaning, I sat with my face feeling like a moonbounce.

Yet, in spite of my suffering, I learned something important that day.  If you ever want to avoid work, all you have to do is have an allergic reaction.

Benadryl, getting me out of work since 2005