You stare at them. You can't help it.
Any freak or misfit you look at.
You know it's wrong....but you always try for at least a glimpse.
This here story is about the buck-toothed gal.
(The second most emabarrassing moment of my life...the first is when I called 4th grade teacher 'Mom')
Years and years ago Buck-Toothed gal used to come in my shop.
From the very beginning I was fascinated with her teeth.
They were huge and she was pretty. Good figure, charming personality. Sexy.
And not just any buck teeth...but BUCK TEETH. Tojo-propoganda style buck teeth.
Bugs Bunnyish buck teeth.
I'd try not to stare.
Yet I always would.
I couldn't wait for her to come back in. Luckily she was a semi-regular and I got to gaze upon those chiclets on a semi-regular basis.
Until one day.
On that day she caught me staring.
I was clearly looking at her buck teeth. I couldn't pretend otherwise.
What could I do??? My mind raced.
I looked right at her bucky-boys.
She looked at me.
I spoke first:
ME: "I love your teeth!"
HER: "Thank you!"
She kept coming in after that. Always flashing those magnificent buck teeth. Always smiling. Proud of her teeth that I said I loved.
I don't even like buck teeth.
But hers were something. She wore them proudly.
And I had to look at them.
Then she stopped coming in.
Years and years went by.
Recently she made an appearance.
I was no longer fascinated by her buck teeth.
She was now fat and old.