© 2011 Timmy Tamisiea. All rights reserved. Still Not Ugly

56/356 – Still Not Ugly

This post was titled by my Second City Co-Worker Carrie.  I asked her to pick a number, 1 through 365, and give me a post title.  She picked 56 and “Still Not Ugly.”  So, in the spirit of letting others do my job, Patrick Tamisiea will write this post based on the title.

Timmy

 

STILL NOT UGLY

By Patrick Tamisiea

Written in the the voice of Timmy Tamisiea

I have always wanted to know what it would be like to be ugly. Just for a day.  I’m so handsome.  I have never felt the shame of being ugly.  Quite honestly, it’s exhausting.  It’s exhausting waking up at 5:00 every morning to apply Olay Eye Bag Ointment to cure away those pesky dark patches; to rub Dr. Hauschka’s Organic Cleansing Cream on my face for a youthful, glowing appearance; to cast away slightly blemishes with Proactive exfoliating cleanser. It’s exhausting to have to stretch a constant  glaring smile of ivory white teeth on a daily basis.  Exhausted of being chased by adoring, beautiful women and gay men.  Exhausted from constant phone calls and emails from model agents and talent supervisors demanding the wonder of my striking face.  It’s exhausting exhausting exhausting!! I’M TIRED TIRED TIRED off being so HANDSOME HANDSOME HANDSOME!!

Then one day as I was jogging I caught my reflection in a boutique store window and began begrudgingly admiring the perfected fluidity of my jawline when BAM, I ran face first into Starbucks.  A Starbucks window to be more specific.  Broke my nose in 4 places, split my lip in 8 places, shattered my right cheekbone, fractured my right eye socket, bruised my chin to an indescribable darkness and swelled both of my eyes shut.

I sat in the hospital for 6 weeks recovering.  It was awful. I was a mess of hurt and agony. Until it dawned on me: this is my chance to be ugly. This was my chance to feel fully understand the essence of ugly.  No more daily 5 AM wake up calls.  No more extreme smiling.  No more spending a third of my paycheck on facial cleansers and cold creams.  This is my chance! This is my opportunity to let my ugly shine.

During that 6 week hospital stay I went through seven reconstructive facial surgeries (three of those on my nose alone).   The doctors deconstructed and reconstructed and welded and stitched and sawed and hammered away at my face. There was no possible way for me to come out unscathed and without scars.  I was coming out of this accident a mess of skin and bone and suture scars.  My face was destined for eternally lopsidedness and dismantlement.  I was to be UGLY. For once in my life I would be a homely, disfigured mess.  And I couldn’t be more thrilled!!

For those 6 weeks my head was blanketed in gauze and white wraps.  I had yet to see my horribly disfigured face.  By the end of my stay I was busting at the seams.  I was like a child at Christmas time impatiently waiting to rip open that first gift from Santa on Christmas morning.  Then, the day came.  I was finally going to feel what it’s like to be ugly as sin.

The nurse slowly unwound the twine masking my face.  The last bit of wrap came off and the nurse placed a mirror in front of my face.  I opened my eyes and I was shocked to see that I was as handsome as ever.  I was still me.  I was still a beautiful man.  Modern medical science had saved and preserved who I naturally was. I was still not ugly. STILL NOT UGLY?!?! HOW COULD THIS BE!!  DAMN YOU MODERN MEDICAL SCIENCE!!!

Moral of the story is: be you.  It turns out I was destined for handsomeness.  I would always be an attractive man. Never ugly.  Always handsome.  Such is life.

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