Do or Di (19 page)

“Erin, you’re panicking. Panic is not an attractive response. I’m sure it looks worse than it is.” I touched my arm and a piece of orange skin sloughed off, falling to the bathroom floor in a zigzag pattern like an autumn leaf drifting down to the forest floor. I was coated in a layer of orange dandruff all over my body.

“I’m not sure I’m panicking. It’s possible that I am incapable of processing the horror and explaining it to you, but trust me, it really is that bad.”

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do, that stuff is basically some kind of dye, right? I want you to take a super hot shower and exfoliate yourself with a power sander to get as much of it off as you can. Then I’m going to get up and meet you at the station. I’ll bring a bunch of makeup and we’ll sort of smooth everything out. Wear long sleeves.” I could hear her rustling out of her bed.

“Do you think that will work?” My voice sounded small.

“Of course it will. Get into the shower now. I’ll meet you at the station in an hour. We’ve got a show to do. Do you want to let Wayne down?” I didn’t say anything. “Well, then there you go, get going.” The phone clicked off. I stood looking at myself for another moment and then cranked the hot water on in the shower. I fished under the sink until I found an exfoliating shower gel and then jumped in.

I stayed in the shower as long as possible. Wash, rub firmly with a bath scrunchie, rinse, and repeat. It seemed to help, or it was possible that I was growing used to the horror. What was clear is that it wasn’t disappearing. I was still covered in orange blotchy bits; only now there were also red streaks from where I rubbed through a few layers of skin. On the upside it looked less flakey so I didn’t have that shrimp-covered-in-toasted-coconut look. I stayed away from the mirror when I got out of the shower, yanked on the outfit I had chosen with such care the night before, and headed out the door. I took a silk scarf and tied it around my head to hide my face.

The television studio was in the heart of the downtown. They had copied the
Today
show idea of having a giant picture window onto the street. It tapped into the desire by otherwise normal individuals to do anything in order to be on TV. People would gather outside holding up signs, dressed in bizarre costumes and half of them jabbering away on their cell phones for various friends to turn on the TV
right now
. After all, if no one sees you on TV, what was the point of being on it?

Colin was in lobby of the station chatting up the receptionist when I came in. His shirt and pants were ironed to sharp, crisp points. I could see a tiny dab of shaving cream on his ear lobe. He turned to face me smiling, and then his expression froze. I guess you do hear about this kind of thing happening when someone is faced with Medusa. A peeling, orange Medusa. I suspect the time I took with my hair wasn’t going to distract from the larger problem.

“What happened to you?” Colin asked.

“Does it look that bad?” I held my breath, awaiting some empty platitudes that would make me feel better.

“However bad you think it looks, it looks worse. What did you do to yourself?”

“I used a self-tanner. I wanted to have a bit of color for the interview today.”

“Oh, you’ve got color. I guess that constitutes success. Are you like this all over?” He looked me up and down.

“Stop it.” I shot a glance around the room. “How I look all over is none of your damn business. The only part you need to worry about is my face.”

“You’re right. I was just momentarily distracted by the idea of you covered in orange polka dots.”

“Oh, God. It is bad, isn’t it? I can’t go on the air like this.” I chewed on my lip.

“Didn’t you do one of those patch tests?”

“Geez, will you shut up! What is it with people and the patch test? Who actually does those things?”

“I’m willing to bet you will from now on.”

“Okay, let’s see how bad it is,” Avita said in a hearty voice behind me. I turned to face her and she dropped her handbag. The sound of various tubes of lipstick rolling around the marble floor echoed around the lobby.

“Don’t ask her about the patch test. She’s really sensitive about it,” Colin advised.

Avita took me by the arm as if I were a wayward toddler and dragged me upstairs to the station. As we entered the room she was screaming for the makeup team. The makeup girl took one look at me and reached for a giant tackle box that was under a bench. She assured me she trained in special effects makeup while in school. If she could make normal people look like zombies she was certain she could make me look like a normal human. It was down to the wire, and they shuffled our interview to the end of the show. She tried a few different options, but in the end the only thing that worked was by covering my face in a dark foundation. I looked like a dropout from a minstrel show or as if I had been trapped in an Easy Bake Oven. With minutes to spare she tore the tissue from my neckline and pushed me toward the studio. Avita gave me a thumbs-up sign. Colin took my elbow and led me onto the set.

“You look like a reject from one of those tacky reality shows on MTV.”

“Well, that’s just perfect; it’s exactly the look I was going for.”

“It does look better.” Colin gave my elbow a squeeze. “You’ll do okay. We just stick to the talking points Perky Pam gave us. We keep the focus on our show, our loving relationship, and trying to pull those viewers in.”

“Do you know how long I wanted to be on TV? To have a chance like this?” My eyes started to tear up and my throat squeezed shut.

“Dear God, do not cry. If that makeup starts to run you are really going to look like a dog’s mess.”

I gave a shuddery hiccup.

The studio crew came over and began fussing with lights. They turned on what appeared to be a spotlight directly onto my face. I could actually feel myself really tanning. Shame I hadn’t relied on this instead of the self-tanner.

“Can you turn the light down at all?” I asked.

“We’re trying to, uh, bleach you out a bit.” The light guy said, avoiding my eyes. The hosts for
Breakfast Television
came over to greet us. They were the typical TV odd couple. Davis was an older man, with a tiny goatee and a class clown attitude. Sari was an East Indian beauty who played the smart straight man of the two. Someone must have warned them about me because neither of them mentioned my appearance which I appreciated, although I noticed Sari avoided touching me. I suspect she was concerned about contagions.

“We’ll have just a couple minutes. We’ll discuss your show, toss you a couple questions, and we’ll be out. You’ll want to make sure to mention the name and timeslot of your show a few times,” Sari said.

“We met with a media trainer; she helped give us some talking points,” Colin said.

“Perfect, you’ll be pros. There’s nothing to it. We’re going to use only one camera for this segment, so you don’t need to worry about where to look. Strange as it will feel even though we’re asking the questions, try to face the camera with your answers. It will help the viewer connect.”

Colin and I both nodded our heads. I felt my mouth growing dry. I would have been nervous anyway, but knowing I looked like a circus freak was not helping.

Davis and Sari turned to the camera. The crew leader held out his hand, counting down on his fingers, three, two, one.

“The battle of the sexes has never been sexier. Today we’ve got Colin Stewart and Erin Callighan from KYTZ Voice of Seattle’s show, He Said, She Said,” Sari said.

“You two are smoking up the air waves. What makes your show so interesting to listeners?”

“Well, Davis, He Said, She Said gives a voice to what men and women are thinking, but lack the guts to say. Listening to our show gives them a chance to listen in on the other sex,” Colin said. Somewhere I could imagine Pam giving a sis-boom-bah cheer.

“It’s the most fun men and women can have with their clothes on,” I toss in. I was impressed I was able to pull this line off without sounding as cheesy as it looked on Pam’s handout.

“You two have a great friction and chemistry on-air. Does that friction translate off air?” Davis asked, waggling his bushy eyebrows in our direction. Sari gave a laugh, rolling her eyes, and jabbed him in the ribs.

“It’s that kind of always thinking about sex that’s the problem with men, isn’t it?” Sari said to me. I gave a squeaky laugh. It seemed like my tongue was too large to actually form words. The small logical part of my brain knew that they were just making good TV, but I had this awful fear that Davis was going to pull out photos and that this would turn into some type of horrid
Primetime
expose of my one-night stand with Colin. I was glad we were instructed not to look at each other. I suspected that if I had to look at Colin I would self-combust.
Talking points, talking points.
I hoped I wasn’t blushing; all I needed was to add another color to the mix.

“Seriously, you guys make a great couple. Is it difficult to mix work and your personal life?” Davis asked.

Colin draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close.

“The only hard part is keeping my hands off her. Lucky for me, it’s radio.” He raised his eyebrows up and down. Apparently eyebrows were the preferred sign language on the show. I elbowed him in the ribs so he would back up onto his own stool. Point made, we’re a couple. He doesn’t have to draw diagrams or engage in actual penetration on the air.

“You two are proof that opposites attract. If you two can be happy together, there’s hope for men and women everywhere.”

“We’ll be putting the shoe on the other foot over the next week,” I added to plug the show. “We’ll be trying out each other’s hobbies.”

“That’s right. Erin will have a chance to think about sex for awhile instead of always leaving that up to me,” Colin said, giving what could only be called a hearty guffaw.

“And Colin will have a chance to think…period,” I shot back. Sari and Davis gave appropriate host laughter.

“You’ll want to tune into He Said, She Said every day this week from three to six pm. You will get to hear how Erin does with her attempt to make it up Tiger Mountain. That is, if she can find a pair of high-heeled hiking boots.”

“And you’ll have a chance to hear how Colin does in the kitchen,” I said.

“You look like the kind of guy who can really cook,” Davis said, giving him a manly punch in the arm.

“Looks can be deceiving, Davis. You’ll have to tune in to see if Colin can get his cake to rise,” I said. I could actually feel Colin turning to face me.

“Well, that’s all the motivation I need to tune in,” Sari said. “If you want to hear how the battle of the sexes works out when they have to play on the other side, check out He Said, She Said on KYTZ.” The crew leader made the OK sign and then the spot light went out. Without the light in my eyes, the studio seemed dark.

“Nice job, you two,” Davis said shaking our hands.

“Thanks, it was fun,” I said.

“Good luck with your show. Maybe if the cake rises you’ll have to do a repeat appearance,” Sari said. Colin waited until they walked away.

“Do you really have to keep implying that I have some kind of sexual dysfunction?”

“You started it.”

“The point of the show is for us to banter back and forth. You’ll note however, I manage to stay away from personal attacks.”

“You said I was so vain I would wear high-heeled hiking boots.”