At first glance, most people assume I was born with an abnormally shaped nose. They assume that I, like Owen Wilson, Sarah Jessica Parker, Zach Braff, and other rhinitically-challenged folks, came from the womb with a natural nasal flaw that separates me from my normal-nosed brethren. Well, they're wrong.
I was born with a perfect nose. My nose was so perfect, in fact, that some thought it was blessed. Others thought it was magical. It's been said that my nose's perfection was capable of curing incurable ails. It's been said that my nose's perfection could make grown men weep. Gawkers would come from all over the world just for a peek at my beautiful beak. Obviously, though, my powerful proboscis is merely a memory now.
You see, even though I was blessed with a super snout, I still had to get an education like everybody else. I still had to pal around with peasants and I still had to live in a world where imperfection exists. Such is life. Along with my perfect nose, I had a big mouth. And, I liked to use that mouth quite a bit. I would talk shit. I would make fun of people. I would start fights. Then, just as I was about to get my ass kicked, my aggressor would get a glimpse of my magnificent muzzle and would retreat. This lasted through grade school, summer camp, and high school. Then, I went to college.
I thought I was going to an Ivy League college. Unfortunately, the admissions committees at those universities couldn't see my nose in the application. I should have attached a picture, but I didn't. So, when I got rejected from every Ivy, I went to the only school that had a one page application and would accept late applicants - The University of Wisconsin. Coming from Miami, I had no idea how cold it was there. Still, I went.
Throughout the Fall semester, I was my usual asshole self, but my nose kept me out of harm's way. Then, come Winter, something horrible happened. It was a drunken night. I'd met a cute girl at the bar. I knew that she had once urinated on my friend's bed, but I didn't care, I was about to get laid. So, The Urinator and I left the bar. We bundled up because it was so fucking frigid outside. I even covered my nose. Big mistake!
Walking home, we came upon three UW football players that I had provoked the night before. I'm not sure how they recognized me with my nose covered, but they did, and they wanted a piece of me. One grabbed my hair, the other grabbed my arms, and the other took aim at my face with a huge corn-fed fist. Boom! I was knocked out. When I awoke, the football players were gone and so was The Urinator. I was lying in the street, afraid for what kind of damage was done to me. I at least hoped the scarf over my nose had protected my best asset.
Slowly, I removed the scarf and felt around. Blood was everywhere and I could tell that my nose was fucked up. How fucked up I did not know. I nervously limped back to my dorm to find a mirror. What I saw was not pretty. My face was literally rearranged. My nose was dangling from the side of my right cheek. I looked like a Picasso and not in a good way. Because I was a dick and my nose could no longer do my bidding for me, I couldn't find anyone to take me to the hospital. So, I took a cab, alone. The doctor said he'd never seen anything like it.
Next thing you know, I was having plastic surgery, specifically rhinoplasty. It was the most painful shit ever. For some reason, the anesthesia didn't work while they rebroke my nose over and over (like I owed them money), they packed my sinuses with 30 feet of gauze (imagine the worst sinus headache you've had multiplied by 30), and they sculpted my cartilage and bone like it was clay (except clay doesn't have nerve endings). It would have been worth it if my nose would be back to its former glory. It wouldn't. My nose would always be a little bit off, even if the healing went well. It didn't.
After the surgery, I returned to school. I still had a big mouth except now, my nose couldn't protect me. Plus, all swollen and pathetic, I looked like an easy target. Every time I opened my mouth, I got punched in the nose. I wouldn't turn my music down in the middle of the night, so my meek neighbor punched me in the nose. I made fun of a Russian guy for being Russian (even though I'm actually of Russian lineage), so the Russian guy punched me in the nose. I complained that my sub was taking too long to make, so a Subway Sandwich Artist punched me in the nose. Soon, it was an epidemic. Everybody I'd piss off decided to punch me in my recovering nose.
Eventually, I figured out how not to get my proboscis punched. It was too late though. All of the nasal knocking during my healing process left me disfigured. Now, Instead of looking like a Greek god, I look like Karl Malden. Instead of charming people with my olfactory organ, I scare them. It's sad. Plus, I have sinusitis and I snore.
Is there a lesson to be learned from this story? Well, I guess you can say that if you have something great, don't put it at risk. Or, stay out of Wisconsin. Or, don't talk shit. Anyway, now you know why I have a big, crooked, hook nose more befitting of a Jew than my god-given schnozz.
1 comment:
Yep, that's a big nose. And so who cut your hair? I had a long lost friend with a huge nose and he sent me a handwritten post card from Japan. It started out with this phrase: "Long time nose."
Cracked me up.
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