My Epidermic Episode! Dj Buddy B's Harrowing True Story!

Not just my routine day when, just before 4:30 in the afternoon, I was abducted from Lexington Avenue in the Bloomingdale's Belt on the upper east side and forced to undergo dermatological treatment. I was on my way to the Sprint store at the very next corner when, suddenly, I found myself between two very tall Russian gentlemen (they were mumbling with accents) in black, fitted suits and sunglasses, who moved in on me with deft speed and ushered me into I Got You Over Your Skin, the epidermis shop! First time two big bouncers brought me into a joint!

Yes, it was a salon; a salon de beaute as a matter of fact! The walls and moderne furniture were all in white, and there I was, feeling schlubby amongst it all after a hard day's work. One of the Russian men suggested I sit down in front of an attractive, young woman in a short black dress. She sported long, hennaed hair and a full face of make-up on her pretty face. Since I smelled Brighton Beach mafia in the air, I tried to settle down on the plush furniture and make myself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

The woman told me her name was Tanya and, then, immediately launched into her pitch. It was all about Over Your Skin's fabulous products which were for application ~~ you've got it! ~~ over your skin! Gasp! Why, these weren't any ordinary moisturizers, cleansers and dermabrasive confections, they were made from minerals direct from the Dead Sea, wouldn't you know! Tanya explained it all to me in simple layman terms.

A side glance at the henchman, arms folded across his broad chest now and staring directly at me, suggested I could end up dead in the sea if I didn't continue to pay attention to Tanya. "Tanya," I squeaked sheepishly, "I have to get over to Sprint!" Why, Tanya wouldn't hear of it. It was time for a demonstration for her products' powers.

She pushed up my shirt sleeve and massaged exfoliant emolient on my wrist! I watched in amazement as all sorts of tiny scuzzies were rubbed away and cleaned off with a mere cotton ball. I felt reborn! Well, at least my wrist did. Dead skin cells removed by Dead Sea scraps. Imagine! Why, it was a miracle, I tell you! A miracle! Praise Sister Tanya!

Unfortunately, it was at this critical juncture that Tanya gazed at the messy cotton ball, sneered and asked me: "How often do you shower, dahlink?"

The cheek! I assured this chick I shower each and every morning. It's my exfoliated skin, bitch! What did you think it would look like late afternoon? Tiny rose petals?

She applied moisturizer under my eyes and shocked me by swiftly lifting a hand mirror to my face. After screaming, I wheezed, "Oh my God! Is that what my hair looks like right now??!" "Ve don't do hair, dahlink," Tanya said dryly.

She began showing me moisturizer but, before she could moisten me, I curtly cut her off. "How much?" I asked. "Only one ninety-nine," Tanya said. I handed her a five-dollar bill and told her I'd take a jar of each. "They're $199, not $1.99," Tanya spat out.

"Thank you but no," I said as I took my bill back. I got up, bid my personal infomercial host a thank you and turned to leave, looking the henchman in the eye with a don't-you-dare leer. Tanya grabbed my hand and slyly slipped something into my palm. Back out on the street, I looked at what she had given me: her business card and a sample packet of Over Your Skin hydrating lotion.

I tried that lotion on my hands tonight. Ah! Those Dead Sea minerals! To die for.

[Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect the innocent.]