Your own face is such a bizarre place to live. If you take you home as the place where you live, you get to see it from the outside and from the inside. If you don’t like a window frame you can paint it if you don’t like the living room you can rearrange it. But your face, the place in which you live constantly without a break is a really bizarre place to be.
As a normal human being you are taught from a very young age not to judge people on appearances. If someone has a scar on their face you would most likely tend not to ask how it happened. If someone has a large birthmark or a horrible burn on their face you would hopefully not say anything at all.
SO WHY do I constantly get told to smile. In asking me to smile you are making a judgement on me as a person. You are assuming that I am, for some reason, unhappy. I’m not or at least I wasn’t.
I remember a conversation with a particularly cheery f**cker one day who had caught me on a particular bad moment. A moment of concentration.
-“Smile Paul, come on”
-“Well don’t ask me to fake an emotion for you if you’re not going to fake one for me, I’m working.”
This didn’t go down to well and I think she may have actually gone off to have a little cry afterwards. But really, don’t judge me.
Saying that, I have spent many years perfecting my unapproachable face. I’d like to think that it is very unapproachable but alas I work in a pub. And people get brave after a drink. There are some days when these brave people just insist on talking to me. Days like today for example. I’m a very good at my job and I do pretend to listen but in the process of pretending my brains turn into grey milkshake. You can often see me playing with my ears, this is due to me being very worried that the protein shake of brain mush will come spewing out.
Another thing I have noticed about my face is that since my beard has started going white in places people keep stopping me and asking for directions or if I know anything about mobile phones or computers. I am literally one more white hair away from being the guy that saves the world from an alien invasion.
I do not know how to get to where you are going!
I am not an Apple Store genius!
I am not a scientist!
I AM AGEING! PLEASE LET ME DO IT QUIETLY.