THE MAN WITH THE FOOT-LONG NOSE.

© 1999 H. Turnip Smith

Pick up the trash. Guy goes by. Nine feet tall, all muscle, yellow eyes, green hair, straight teeth, perfect. Sweep the floor.

Girl goes by. Seven feet six inches, 196 pounds, all curves, silky blue hair, great smile, perfect. Mop the floor; guy comes back with girl on his arm; not me.

Get off work, go back to space-coop alone. 'You care if I'm a loser?' I say to my fat dog Bob. Only name I could think of. 'Who hit you with an an ugly stick?' his liquid eyes say.

Hear a joke -- don't get it. Go to a dance -- can't keep time. Go to beach -- lifeguard hangs sign around my neck -- Beach closed due to visual pollution. Why me? I wonder again.

Who's my mom and dad? I'm a Malthusian too, ain't I? We're supposed to be genetical programmed to be the same: good-looking, athulectic, and smart. Not me. Sure I'm healthy, but I look like a defective hippoprotamus assembled without a building permit.

 

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