Sunday, 28 September 2014

A Reason to Hide.

All my life I’ve had a singular problem. I’ve always wondered why everybody else looks normal and I don’t. Even extremely ugly people look more normal than me, and it’s coming to something when you can’t even see yourself as extremely ugly. Or handsome, or distinguished, or anything else. Just odd. The way I look is, by definition, abnormal.

I remember standing in a public toilet once, washing my hands. My friend Alan Steele was standing next to me, also washing his hands. He looked like the second bloke from the left in this picture of the Beach Boys:

  
There were mirrors on the facing wall. I looked at his face, and then at mine, and then back to his, and thought ‘Why can’t I look normal like him?’ (It was at a pub in Bagnall, Staffordshire. I have a good memory for face issues.)

Random Aside:

Poor Alan. He emigrated to Australia in his early twenties and embraced the lifestyle. I met his sister many years later and she told me he’d become a suburban, 250lb couch potato living entirely on junk food and having difficulty making it to the local takeaway and back. Such a shame. When I knew him he was fit and strong, and had a reputation for doing crazy things like diving into an ice-covered pool and having to be rescued and resuscitated because he was semi-conscious and probably would have drowned otherwise. (I was the one who took charge of the resuscitation procedure because I’d learned about that sort of thing in the navy. Clever, aren’t I? Strange-looking, but clever. I suppose it’s compensation of a sort.) We were all in awe of dear Abo, as he was affectionately known, and it helped that he looked normal.

Anyway, here’s a picture of the cool uncle Dmitri, with whom I have one thing in common…

  
…those lines across the bridge of the nose. But is it enough to have prominent frown lines? I don’t think so, somehow. I frowned in jest at a friend’s little daughter once and she backed off, whimpering. She’d done well to cope with the way I looked generally.

So what do I do about it? Nothing. Too late. What I need now is a bell tower to live in and some gypsy dancing girls to rescue. Some hope.

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