I greatly dislike being sweaty in inappropriate places. You probably do as well, because, really, who enjoys that? So you can commiserate with me.
There have only been a few times when I have been truly sweaty in public venues, each awful in their own special way. Most of the time I’m just hot, red-faced, and breathy from basically speed-walking to school (I live on the longest street known to man). Then I get to class and people give me funny looks because I’m hot, red-faced, and breathy. I have become Hot, Red-faced, Breathy Girl. Do you know how many friends Hot, Red-faced, Breathy Girl has? It’s a diminishing number because no one wants to be seen with her. What a sad existence.
But that’s nothing compared to last weekend when Julia and I ventured to Toronto to watch a Jays game. It was sweltering, people. Sweltering! And we sat in the super nosebleed section. I’m talking dizzying heights here, people. We were probably closer to the top of the CN Tower than we were to the baseball field. [On a side note, I felt nauseous just looking at the people doing the edge walk on the CN Tower. I would literally vomit and then pass out if I ever did that. My incredible fear of heights is just one of the reasons I could never be on The Bachelor. They’re always hurling themselves off giant things].
In any case, there we were, sitting on the surface of the sun, melting into our uncomfortable plastic chairs. When we all stood, we had sweat marks on the back of our shorts. Attractive. At that point, I had become Hot, Red-faced, Breathy Girl with sweaty shorts. Not a good look for Hot, Red-faced, Breathy Girl.
Another time that I have been unbelievably sweaty in public was at the Hillside Festival last summer. Gracious. I have, and I sincerely mean this, never been that sweaty before in my whole life. It was outrageously hot, we were standing in giants tents with very little airflow, and there were hordes of people everywhere. The Sheepdogs set was so popular that the tent had reached capacity. What? It was an open tent. I was standing so close to strangers that THEY were sweating on me. And trust me, I did not need their sweat on me as well as my own. My kneecaps were sweating. That is how you know when you are too sweaty for life. And so was born Hot, Red-faced, Breathy, Too-sweaty-for-life Girl. I hope that I never see her again.
But I think the time that takes the cake was my final lead role at dance. I was the genie in Aladin, which was very cool and loads of fun. Unfortunately, there are three recitals, which means three rehearsals, which means a week-long sweating extravaganza. And I was in a full-body (I’m talking ankle to wrist) unintard. The top was made out of the thickest spandex in the world (I was basically wearing a weather balloon), and the bottom was crushed velvet. As a bonus, I also had a crushed velvet turban. I have never been so warm in my life. Crushed velvet is not a good material for Hot, Red-faced, Breathy Girl. Neither is weather balloon spandex.
~ Hilary Axle Hatchet