Miss Bianchi You’ve Won

You really know when you’ve taken a wrong turn when you win a personalized, whatever that means, three inch in diameter tattoo.

Me, of all people, who hate them. Apparently I entered a raffle, unbeknownst to me, when I bought skull socks at a store in Soho. I got them for a friend, to be funny, who was down in the dumps. My note read…see, things could be worse…you could have modeled for these.

I do not want a tattoo…I don’t even want socks, but it got me thinking. I’ve never won anything in my life except a canary at the Danbury State Fair when I was nine that died in the car before I got home. No, I did not make that up. Then I could legitimately leave my brain to science.

How could I forget such a thing I was so devastated by.

“They’re mass produced,” I remember my father saying burying the poor bird in the backyard next to Mugs the cat. “Can’t trust these carnivals…even the beer tasted funny.” And he should know having his first one every morning with an English Muffin.

I’m just not very lucky by nature.

I never even find pennies on the street, and if I do Lincoln is always face down. I was taught unless Abe was looking at you it was a curse to pick one up.

Being raised Italian can be rough.

When I was in high school they had a silent auction every year when some rich girl’s father always donated a new Chevrolet. My dad, who wasn’t so lucky either, would buy a hundred tickets but the only thing he ever won was a set of screens. No wonder he drank. Can’t drive one of those. I guess this is why one never hears the expression, the luck of the Polish…yes, I’m half Polish…Bianchi is a stage name.

Another time I entered a beauty pageant, Miss Italian Community Center, and didn’t even make the finals. It could have been the fuchsia one-piece my mother made me wear. She said color would make me stand out. I’ll say. Personally I think all it did was blind the judges who only saw a big, rosy giant up on stage. I was bigger than the other girls and quite a bit wider and if I told you my special talent was hula-hooping then you might understand why I lost.

In our house where there was a will (in case you had an accident) there was a way, even if you made a fool of yourself. Like my mother used to say, “So what…who’s gonna remember your skirt fell off?”

Just me, on that shrink’s couch for the next forty years.

I suppose the upside of that was my willingness throughout my life to make an ass out of myself to get a job.

I got a part in a movie once because I had to fall in the audition. All the other models refused…said it was undignified. So was debtor’s prison…I had no problem and booked the job. The film is called Quick Change with Geena Davis and Bill Murray.ย  images I was such a baby.

But back to my tattoo. I felt totally legit asking if I could just have the cash and wondered why Ike the Spike got mad at me. “So uncuul,” he said, “reelee lay-dee, so un-cuul.

Fuck you Ike. If I won fair and square then that tattoo should be negotiable.

I should at least be able to give it to a friend.

but no such luck.

SB

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About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Family, humor, kids, New York City, Uncategorized, Women and men and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

30 Responses to Miss Bianchi You’ve Won

  1. micklively says:

    I’m glad you didn’t get the tattoo. You are lucky not to need your appearance enhancing. That’s luckier than most folk.

    Like

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    Oh Susannh, I love the photo! And your skirt falling off while hoola-hooping? Hilarious. I was/am a hoola-hooper, but the worse thing I did (a few years ago in a Curves session) was have a hoop go zinging off my head while hoolaing around my neck, and nearly (but not quite) decapitating an innocent bystander.
    I was a contestant in our county Dairy Princess contest, unknowingly entered by my mother. I am tone-deaf, but didn’t realize it yet. I sang for my talent. Not a good thing to do at all. Then the judges asked me to name three types of cheese. Cheese? I didn’t know squat about cheese. After much hesitation, I answered, “Velveeta, sharp, and cottage.” In a field of ten contestants, I did not win, place, or show.

    Like

  3. katecrimmins says:

    Bummer! I think they deliberately picked your name because they just knew you wouldn’t take them up on it. Now that’s really uncool!

    Like

    • I have no idea why I was the lucky recipient…there should have been an alternate prize, like a bong for instance. I would have been happy to take that…they make great vases if you dismember them.

      Like

  4. D. D. Syrdal says:

    At least they could have given you your choice of more socks, or the tattoo. Fabulous pic, too ๐Ÿ™‚

    Like

  5. Patricia says:

    I would have taken the tat…but it would have to be smaller.

    Like

  6. I LOVE the photo! Get me a stack of bibles … honest to God I thought it was Audrey Hepburn before you said it was you. Tattoo? One does not put a bumper sticker on a Ferrari….that would be very uncool.

    Like

    • Couple things…one…went to your site on Sunday…why are you not writing? Am I putting you on the spot? Good!!!

      As far as that picture goes…my mother used to call be Audrey Heartburn. That was so long ago and to think I thought I was going to be a big star…the naivete of youth…nice hearing from you…and please write something…anything ๐Ÿ™‚

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      • Hahaha! I actually did just post something Sunday late afternoon. I’ve been consumed with college bs and working out like a mad woman. You’ll be reading all about that adventure soon.

        Like

      • I must have just missed it. I’m just glad you’re okay…will check in after my run which is the last thing I feel like doing. Pancakes keep interceding…having this craving for Aunt Jemimah syrup…go figure Top. Hormones and fatigue can lead one astray.

        Like

  7. pmahaney says:

    Loved the photo Ms. Heartburn and I’ve seen all your movie. No seriously loved this post.

    Like

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