U.H.I.D. - The Curse of Being Cute
2009 08 11
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Reading Infinite Jest for a book club.
Some unattractively crusty man whose charms seem to have come out of the May 24th weekend bash at Cayuga Speedway (1), just exited the Tim Hortons I'm in after verbally extending his uncomfortable compliments to some poor girl (2) out with her brother; she already having been vocally salivated over by the foreign gentleman across the room, and in the middle of a conversation of cheerful forced politeness (she's very good at this) with some octogenarian who's trying to talk to her about dancing.
At times like this I consider those moments I wish I were a little better looking, a little thinner, and realise that it might be better that I am not.
And I realise why it is that Joelle wears a veil. It's not just so her prettiness will stop putting people off, it's so she can acquire some sort of equality, anonymity, facelessness in a world that fixated on her face. And, perhaps, to get a moment's unviolated peace.
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(1) Imagine, if you will, a park full of drunken bingo hall trailer-trash, muddied, sleep-deprived, hungover, smelling like a sweaty tent flap. If you're Australian, imagine some much more low-brow bogans.
(2) And the moment of sympathy I felt for this girl who just died in the wake of her commentary on regretting not having married some years ago, because now she'd be living in some mansion in Italy if she had. Although, I suppose there's something to be said for being that open and upfront about her material wants. Way to not be shy, I guess.