Yours Truly: I'm supposed to have coffee with a colleague who's in town for the day. I'm dreading it because she makes me really uncomfortable.Yes, it's true... I have issues with pancake makeup. Laugh all you want and poke fun but that shit really disturbs me. As stated before, I'm really weird about texture so, not surprisingly, when I see layers of schmutz on someone's face at close range... well, I want to die. (Notice I didn't say "shrivel up and die" because the word "shrivel" brings to mind wrinkles, creases and folds. As you can imagine, that is a most unholy mental alliance for someone like myself who's not down with the whole texture thing.)
Jess: Why's that?
YT: Two words: pancake makeup
Jess: Mon dieu!
YT: Yup.
I interned at CNBC when I was in college and whenever I encountered pancake-wearing on-air talent in the halls, I had a mini nervous breakdown. I was on the elevator with a female anchor one day and she insisted on engaging me in small talk. Under different circumstances, I would have welcomed that. For example, fill-in anchor Sheila Steinback and I had a lovely conversation about Melrose Place in the pantry one evening. She hadn't gone to makeup yet so I was more than happy to chat with her about Amanda's latest schemes and the funky scar on Kimberly's melon. It was all very pleasant. However, had Sheila taken the Elevator Anchor's lead and tried chatting me up with layers of thick beige shit and primary colors spackled to her face, well... I would have asked Sheila to kindly do me a solid and disengage.
I'm still traumatized by Elevator Anchor's made-up face. In the light of that elevator, she looked like she had been prepped by a mortician. Since I don't make a habit out of talking to stiffs, this was NOT a pleasant experience for me.
However, I'm pleased to report that there's a happy ending to this ridiculous tale... the aforementioned colleague got sucked into a bunch of meetings and had to cancel on me. Pity.
