Don’t Touch Me
There’s a small scab of sorts under my eye right now and I’m not sure if it’s a skin problem or if I stabbed myself in my sleep again. In any case, it’s mostly healed but a little bit of flakiness remains. Well, yesterday I was hanging out with some friends and a girl I barely know says, “You have something on your face” and goes to reach for it! Naturally, I jerked my head back violently and said, “I can get it” but what I should have said is “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
This is not the first time I’ve had somebody attempt to remove something from my face without my permission and it baffles me every time. What makes someone think I’d rather have their nasty finger touching my face over whatever is already there? And why are they so anxious to touch it anyway? For all they know, that might not be a dab of ranch dressing or a stray eyelash on my cheek.
If a poisonous insect or an unattractive Republican is gnawing at my body, yes, I’d appreciate a quick assist in removing it. But if my life or pride are not in serious danger, just give me a heads up and let me figure out how to handle it.
I do the same thing…jerk back that is. I can’t stand it when people I don’t know touch my face. 8O
Jim used to have a dark freckle on the end of his nose and his friend’s girlfriend tried to rub it off–with the finger she just licked!! How f*ing gross is that. It took all he had to refrain from kicking the shit out of her.
BTW–he did finally have the freckle removed.