Last year, Ryan and I vacationed in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. It was fabulous, of course, until we got the call that his mom had suffered a heart attack back in Boston. That part wasn’t so much fun. Not compared to the night when we cleared the dance floor with Ryan’s outrageous boogie moves.
“I’ll have what he’s been drinking,” an older man said, chuckling.
“No such luck. He’s sober,” I said.
Then I broke out in hives, effectively ending Ryan’s show-stopping performance. Boo on me.
No, it wasn’t from the attention. If anything, I wanted more eyes on me. It was the fatal shellfish-alcohol-sweating combo that did me in again. It happened at my company Christmas party. I sampled the raw bar. I drank a few cocktails. I danced until drenched in sweat. And then I broke out in hives. Curious, curious phenomenon. There was one other time I broke out in hives from going for a run after eating sushi. No alcohol. But it was two-day-old sushi, so I probably deserved it.
Oh, and P.S., Ryan’s mom’s fine. Just thought I should clarify that.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: sweat, sweating, vacation, hives, shellfish, mexico
Next time you need to make it a shellfish-alcohol-sweating-Benadryl combo.
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