A joker perhaps, but not The Joker.
Almost all of my scars have faded away. Still visible are small scars on my back and side from back surgery, a bikini line scar from abdominal surgery as a teen, a chicken pox scar on my cheek, and a scar through my eyebrow which I thought had faded away until I was asked about it a few weeks ago. Something to do with falling on an Easter basket as a tyke.
No scars, but one index finger had the top right corner up to the nail sliced off by a new 8" chef’s knife about 10 years ago. Very gruesome. It now matches the other index finger, the top corner getting sliced off by a sliding glass shower door when I was 3. My parents replaced the sliding glass door with a shower curtain after that.
I’ve got a ~1/2" vertical scar just outboard of one eye. Could make a decent dueling scar. It’s not obvious enough that I’ve had much opportunity to invent great embellished stories, and it’s gotten less obvious as I’ve gotten older.
My parents told me that dates from when I scaled our Christmas tree when I was about 2-1/2. Pulled the whole thing down on top of myself and either a broken glass ornament or a pine twig gouged out a hunk of meat just outside the orbit of the eye. Lucky me.
I have always had zero recollection of the event or the aftermath.
I got a bunch. My Favorites are from The Bear Attack.
TMI warning…
I forgot one, I am circumcised. It happened when I was very young, it was normal in the Catholic society I was born into, though I believe this is not univeral Catholic dogma.
I’m pretty ambivalent about it, not knowing the difference personally. Aesthetically, it has not seemed to disturb my few sexual partners, and according to urban legend the lack of protection “toughens up” the most sensitive part, which allegedly allows more stamina. I suspect this is false.
The scar itself is only noticeable to me, mostly a slight change in colour at a certain point.
I have two scars on my right forearm. You’d have to be specifically looking for them to notice them. I also have one on my left foot.
- On the lateral side of my right forearm, near my elbow, is a triangular scar that I earned when I was about 12. I was walking along a wall, with my right side against it (who can explain why 12 year olds do what they do), not paying attention, and I got the business end of a plexiglass picture frame. Sliced a pretty big chunk of skin, and I was too afraid to tell an adult because I was afraid I’d get into trouble.
- On the “top,” as it were (viz, on the same “side” as the back of my hand) of my forearm is a vertical scar that I earned when I was about 20/21. I was doing a service project for college, and my team was helping clear the area around a sewage pond. The pond was surrounded by barbed wire, and I reached under it to pull out a log. I didn’t judge the distances correctly, and for that I earned a nice laceration. No one wanted to take me to the hospital to get stitched up, and the place was surprisingly thin on First Aid supplies.
- On the lateral side of the top of my left foot, a surgical scar I earned when I was 9/10 and had a cyst cut out of me. In 2025 this procedure could probably be done in the dermatologist’s office without scarring, but things were different in the late 1970s.