Inevitably, every day of my life, I am told to smile. To cheer up. I’m informed that ‘it can’t be that bad.’ I’m told in a sarcastic tone to not look so happy. To try not to be so enthusiastic. And it pisses me off. It’s just my face. Shut up. I don’t go around telling people that they should pluck their eyebrows or that they should really do something about that mole…..you know why? It’s just their face and it isn’t any of my business. You wouldn’t just walk up to somebody and tell them to stop looking so ugly, would you? I don’t get it.
So Friday was no exception. In fact, it happened twice. First at work. I immediately asked the perpetrator to stop for a second, which he did. I immediately called the awesome friend on speaker phone. I told her that someone had just told me not to look so happy, and then I asked her what was wrong with this statement. She replied with, ‘Well, Paul*(not his real name) knows he’s going to die now, right? I mean, everybody knows there’s two rules with you. One, don’t tell you to smile. Two, don’t touch the Talea.’ I thanked her and ended the call. Paul looked at me, aghast with the situation. He seemed very personally offended and very confused. It’s nothing personal and not confusing at all. It’s a simple request, really.
So whatever. I put it behind me cuz I put it behind me every day, but it’s not every day I get friends to do the dirty work for me, so that was cool.
Later that night, I was stumbling home after a night of knitting with the gals and too much red wine. I was travelling on my own at like, 2 in the morning, so I was trying my very bestest not to look drunk, which, as we all know ends up making one look even more inebriated than they are.
In my case, it only serves to make me look angrier than I already look. It’s really an unfortunate curse sometimes. Most of the time, it’s good cuz people leave me alone for fear I’m going to bite off their heads. But sometimes as we all know, people feel obliged to point out the expressions on my face.
A car of choches (see previous post for definition) drove by me, fresh from the club. I was literally across the street from my building and they yelled something like, “Hey girl! Put a smile on that face!” They drove off, but I’m sure much guffawing, chest smacking and high fiving ensued down the street. I rolled my eyes, crossed the street, came home and passed out.
But it got me thinking. What’s so bad about having a serious face? Let’s look at the alternatives. You know, those folks who are apparently living the way they should, smiling like baffoons at all times, at all costs. Cuz I guess that’s what I”m supposed to aspire to.
So, let’s go:
Wow. Well, I’m convinced. I’m smiling it up from now on! Just keep up your end of the bargain and be a little less hideous, alright? Thanks!