Jul 1, 2016

On Plastic Surgery, Perfect Selfies and Other Shit

     As you might've picked up in my last post, I've been considering getting 'some work done' which I planned alerting my mother about. Much to my convenience, she actually came to visit me a few days after the decision had been made and the post was up, so I decided to take her out for lunch, get her inebriated (just a smidgen) and break the news to her.
     After half a glass of a beer — she's not much of a drinker, it's quite embarrassing how subpar her drinking competence is actually — I noticed that calm, relaxed sheen in her darling eyes and those faint red blotches which started to form on her precious cheeks and I knew it was go time.
     "Hey, mom, I have to tell you something."
     "Yes?" The calm, relaxed sheen twinkled in her eyes.
     "I'm thinking about getting elf ears."
     "Don't be crazy," she blurted, and the calm, relaxed sheen began to dwindle.
     "I'm not, I'm just getting some little ear pointing done. Probably."
     "No, you're not." The calm, relaxed sheen dwindled some more.
     "You know I'm too old for you to order me around, right?" And with that, the calm, relaxed sheen dwindled away completely and took with it the slightly intoxicated happy haze. Damn it, I should've waited till she finished that beer.
     "Did you forget what happened when you had your cartilage pierced?! Your ear turned into a cauliflower, remember? It almost fell off! Do you want your ears to turn into cauliflowers again? Do you want your ears to fall off??" OK, maybe I'd waited long enough.
     "It didn't almost fall off, don't be dramatic. But yes, mom, I remember. That's why I'm not getting elf ears, relax. But considering your reaction you should probably be happy to find out that I'm only getting a plug."
     "A plug??"
     "A plug."
     "Don't be crazy."
     "I'm not, I'm just getting a plug and I'm telling you in advance like I always tell you, so ... that's it."
     "Could you please, please, please not do that?" I think she, for a split second, considered bribing me again. Or stabbing me, who knows — it was difficult for me to read her with all the beer she drank, that lush.
     "It's my ear, you see me once a month, let it go. Or would you rather see me with elf ears?"
     "You do that and I disown you."
     Disown me? Well ... that was a bit harsh, wasn't it? Not that I haven't heard that coming from her before but to throw that platitude my way over some tiny ear pointing was just melodramatic. But let's ascribe the mamma melodrama to the fact that she does indeed love me and wants me to stay healthy which she, as a doctor, knows a lot, if not everything, about. I'm sure her revolt against my going under the knife to surgically and permanently alter those boring flaps of skin and connective tissue perched on my head had nothing to do with the fact that she'd die of embarrassment if she were seen in public with me. I'm sure. So I didn't fuss much about her outburst and drank my beer. But I was more than ready and willing to fuss when I heard some other doctor say some other abysmal shit. Unfortunately, I couldn't — that doctor was on television.
     Just around that time, I happened to come across a show on plastic surgery and some wiseass surgeon talked about how he turned down a guy who came to his office wanting to get his tongue split. His argument was — that his tongue would turn into a cauliflower and fall off? No. He said that the procedure 'wouldn't enhance the patient's aesthetic appearance'. Um, is this a joke? Those doctors do so much fucked up, botched up, downright butt ugly shit for insane amounts of money and then they want to draw the line when it comes to tongue splitting? Or ear pointing? Or subdermal implant insertion? Because putting a blob of saline or silicon in someone's boobs isn't exactly that — subdermal implant insertion? Or because this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this or this looks so much better, so much more aesthetically enhanced? Let me tell you something, fancy TV plastic surgeon guy, all plastic surgery, with the exception of operating on burnt victims and cancer patients and anything along those lines, is fucking pointless. Just as is all body modification, there's no difference between the two really, you're all in the same boat, dude, you all modify the body due to vain and pointless motives, you just get paid way way more, you fuck. And in 2015, over 1.7 million plastic surgeries were performed in the United States alone which is about 20% of all cosmetic surgical procedures done globally so there's a ton, A TON of money made each year, so stop acting so high and mighty and let's call a spade a spade: you're just a money-hungry businessman in scrubs and medical gloves instead of a suit and tie. "But I have patients who come to me with low self-esteem issues, I help them, I help them more than any psychiatrist ever could." Oh, come on! I just saw two teenagers get their noses done so they could 'take a selfie from every angle' instead of somebody telling them to stop being a couple of superficial cunts and put down their phones. Yet you think you're above tongue splitting and ear pointing. You're a hypocrite. You're a hypocrite and a moron and I don't like you so fuck you. Fuck you and your high horse. In fact, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up right now.
     And he did shut the fuck up — I changed the channel. That ought to teach him. Dumbass.
     But all that internal ranting gave me an idea. This imbecile was a doctor and my mom is a doctor, so maybe I should take a different approach when explaining I want elf ears. Maybe I should say that my hearing is impaired and a different shape would help me improve my hearing difficulty. Or that I suffer from low sELF-esteem issues and need pointy ears to get over my social phobia and throw some 'anxiety attacks' in for good measure. Or that I need them to take the perfect selfie. Yes, that's what I should tell her. That's what I will tell her!
     Then again, my mom's not an imbecile. And besides, there's still that pesky cauliflower issue, remember? So I guess I better stick with my regular ears — although I do like cauliflower in my soup, I wouldn't want any growing on my head. Not even for a perfect selfie.

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