I was looking through some old photos of myself in that Norma Desmond-y way I have, and found one where I looked almost cute except for a honker the size of Pittsburgh exploding through my face.
If I had only had it chopped off back then, my whole life would have been different! I would have been a big screen sensation, not someone trying to get quotes from big screen sensations!
I remember thinking at the time, “Maybe I should get a nose job,” but I decided against it because: (a) I hate pain. (b) I dislike expense. (c) I didn’t want to insult my parents by making them think I was trying to erase their genes (If indeed they are my parents, ba dum pum). (d) I didn’t want to have to evade all the people wondering “Something’s different about the way you look. What is it?”
Most of all, I was afraid the doctor might slip and somehow make it worse!
Instead, I’ve lived many, many years looking like a puppet that’s lied a lot. Oh, well. At least I built some character, and there’s no removing that, right? RIGHT?