I have made a conscious effort these past few months to avoid calling people “ugly.” There actually are some very wonderful human beings on this Earth who just happened to end up getting the short end of the stick genetically. For that reason, I have tried to slow down when it comes to making fun of the aesthetically-challenged. The appearance impaired. Or, as they are known in most scientific circles, mud ducks.
Sometimes, these people have kind hearts and giving spirits. Then, there are the other times. The times when the unattractive become detached from reality and forget that they are not cute. I experienced this the other day when leaving the Metro.
I was coming up to the top of the escalator, and some young ladies were walking by. Neither one was attractive at all. I wouldn’t even give either enough credit to wear the label of Nightcrawler. For those readers who are not shallow jackasses like myself, here is the clinical definition of the term Nightcrawler:
Nightcrawler – (noun) A rather unattractive person whom you might somehow have sex with after a night full of drinking and/or recreational drug use, but you will never, under ANY circumstances, be seen with or acknowledge in broad daylight. Derived from the earthworm of the same name, encounters with Nightcrawlers are to remain underground and buried deep in the mushy soil of hazy drunken flashbacks.
Since Nightcrawler is not a strong enough term to do those women justice, I will refer to them by nicknames that more accurately fit. When I saw King Kong Bundy and Leprous Sasquatch, I didn’t pay them any mind, since I was just trying to get home and relax. As they passed, I heard Leprous Sasquatch say “Giiiirl, he better not come over and try to talk to me!”
Upon hearing this, I kind of slowed down, with a look of sheer confusion and disbelief on my face. I thought to myself “Are these Humalayan Yeti-looking, Abominable Ho-Man Beast Woman motherf*ckers for real?” and then just kept on walking.
My next thought was, “It must be rough looking like them. I wouldn’t be suprised if both of them stand next to each other in the bathroom each morning reciting the words ‘I’m sexy!’ out loud for two hours straight until they’ve almost conditioned themselves to believe it. Maybe ol Battlecat and Mum-Ra over there wanted me to walk over and talk to them, and thought that reverse-psychology would do the trick. Maybe they’re just on drugs. I’d be depressed enough to sniff a few lines of something if I had to walk past mirrors looking like that.”
See…Even when I’m talking trash, I care about my fellow human beings! Maybe it’s a good thing that those rabid wildebeests have extremely high self-esteem. It may prevent them from comitting crimes in the future. Then again, crime might be the perfect choice of career for the unattractive. Have you ever tried to REALLY look at an ugly person’s face? It’s painful. Like looking directly into the sun. If that Patrick Ewing in a dress looking chick had tried to rob me, I would have either just looked at the concrete and passed her my wallet, or told her to go ahead and shoot me, because whatever awaits in Hell cannot possibly compare to the horror I just laid eyes on!Tweet