The Sourpuss of the Century (update: June 9, 2009)
left: what I see in the mirror when I smile right: what other people see when they look at me smile
The biggest thing I inherited from my father’s genes was his unfriendly face. The unique thing about this curse, was that it came out of the DNA spin cycle twisted, and the price I have to pay for bearing my sourpuss is a second curse: I attract the nicest guys in the world.
First things first: my non-smile really betrays my personality. It’s all Nosferatu on the outside, but whimsical, sweet Springtime kisses on the inside. I experience the same thing my father did; after a few minutes into any conversation, new acquaintances will often remark, “I’m surprise you are such a cordial person, you didn’t look friendly from afar.”
Perhaps it’s not so much a sullen look as a serious look. Let’s just say that even in my state of elation- when I think I am emanating my Julia Roberts smile squared (enough to keep Colgate from a bailout for two more decades)- people still see someone that makes Tommy Lee Jones look like Spongebob Squarepants. If I had just won the lottery (if I played the lottery), someone would probably take one look at my face and ask, “where’s the casket being lowered?”
I have such a severe look on my face that countless people have approached me in the past, thinking I was some dominatrix who liked to take charge and make men (and women) suffer. Once I informed them that they would be made to sit through Waterworld followed by Showgirls, they take to their heels.
There’s no safeword in this world that can protect anyone from that kind of pain.
I’ve been with my guy for over three years now, and to this day, when I try to invoke my feminine mystique and give him the romantic, bedroom eyes, he still asks, “eh…are you…challenging me to enter into a cagefight match or are you about to ask me to sign an IRS Audit letter from the mail man?”
So now, you would think with my funereal countenance, I would get mall goths flocking in my direction. No. Instead, all I attract are the nicest people in the world. Not only do I have nice people pulling numbered tickets at the Pristine counter waiting for cold cuts to be served, I turn meanies into warm fuzzies for some unknown forth law of thermodynamics. Tyson would buy me a beanie baby if he met me. If I got into a time machine and came out in the past, Attila the Hun would say, “no please, after you….” Hitler would probably cook me a nice bowl of Matzoh ball soup.
Maybe if I start being bubbly and perky like Paris Hilton, I’ll finally run into Paris Trout.
For years I have silently enjoyed your unique perspectives. But now for the first time I feel compelled to speak out. Your “Sourpuss of the Century” commentary sheds light on how shallow the world is, how it judges a book by its cover, not its content. Believe it or not, I have never smiled a day in my life. I have a rare disorder, Moebius Syndrome, or “facial paralysis,” as it is sometimes known. You have no idea the hellstorm of prejudice that rains down on a person who can’t smile. But just like you, I have developed a persona that for whatever reason allows others to embrace who I am, not how I smile. Most aren’t so lucky. So be proud of being a “Sourpuss” and having a personality that smiles.
Hi Warren,
Thanks for vocalizing your thoughts. I’m always encouraged to write and continue this site whenever anyone comments here. Especially more so that it’s next week I have to renew this website/domain!
It’s a shame, but it happens. I still remember my father saying “every where I go, people always say “SMILE! IT CAN’T BE THAT BAD? WHAT’S WRONG? SMILE! IT’S A BE-YOO-DI-FUL DAY?”
And it just reminds me of the queen who protest too much. I remembered reading a travelog where visitors at a Japanese meditation garden are entreated to a loud bullhorn announcing that everyone should stay quiet. It’s infinitely more important to be happy inside. It just makes me wonder: do we need constant visual reaffirmation that we are happy? And if so, who does that reaffirmation seek to placate?
But you know something? Flip it around and you will expose the flaw of the approach. I think these traits translate very well online. Nobody sees you, but they just see your thoughts. For those who rely heavily on visual proof that they are happy, they may find it at odds to expose just what it is they have to be happy about.
And to this day, I see more b*tchin and complaining online then anywhere else.
So what does that tell you?
be well, my fellow non-smiler!