Friday, March 03, 2006

Not quite a birthmark

My friend gave me a bathset for my birthday. She seemed to doubt my sincerity when I thanked her, so I took out one of the pieces that had a suction cup and stuck it to my forehead:

"I've always wanted one of these. Look how well it sticks."

Then I pulled it off, and it left a huge, circular bruise on my forehead. It was quite embarrassing, as I kept thinking, everyone will think I have AIDS. As a single woman, I didn't want to project that image. So when I went to some expensive shop on Montana Ave., I felt compelled to explain to the saleslady (without any prompting) that no, I didn't have AIDS, and that this mark was just because I had stuck a suction cup to my forehead. She didn't even attempt to nod sympathetically. Which was terrible, as you can pretty much say anything to a saleslady, and they'll cluck and say they understand perfectly. Well, she didn't seem to understand this. And I hadn't even bought the sweater, yet.

After about a week, my bruise faded away. Then, a year later, I was talking with my brother, and I told him this story. Instead of looking at me like the saleslady, he nodded sympathetically, like he really understood. Now, my brother never understands me. Ever. So, I asked, "You don't think that was weird of me?"

"No, I did it myself. When I was at CalTech, I put a suction cup on my forehead and pulled it off, and it left a huge bruise. The trick is to not pull it straight off, but to shift it a bit."

4 Comments:

At 5:08 pm, Blogger redcometchar7 said...

That was funny!

Happy birthday to you!

-redcometchar7

 
At 8:45 am, Blogger Unknown said...

Thank you very much! I had a nice birthday. I went dancing in Long Beach. Now I can barely walk, but it was worth it.

 
At 12:07 pm, Blogger Masha said...

you brother went to CalTech? You guys must be a genuis family :)

 
At 12:44 pm, Blogger Unknown said...

Well, if putting suction cups on one's head is a sign of genius, then so be it.

Once when I was feeling especially full of myself, I took an IQ test on the internet -- I'm not sure if I even made triple digits. It said I could probably live a full life...if I had live-in help (which I'm sure is true. That's why I need a husband. Or an illegal immigrant).

I can't even remember how many colleges I dropped out of. When I hear my friends who are teachers or professors describing their worst students, I always feel a bit awkward. Then I mutter a half-hearted, "Geez. Kids today."

 

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