I had a friend who was the scariest looking summbich alive. Like the Zig Zag guy, only big, and with pock marks, and a set of expression that made him look really pissed off unless he smiles. When he smiles he looks positively terrifying.
When walking in crowds, we always let him go first. No problem. People get he heck out of his way. When they jump back with particularly obvious alacrity, he grins at them and says “Thanks!” in a fairly loud voice. Of course that grin is a truly frightening thing to see. Gold caps, a slight droop to the left side of the face, and all those scars. Actually, he is a very nice man, and has a pretty good sense of humor. (He is a mechanic, and worked in the back of the bay in the place he worked, and never dealt with customers. He got tired of folks being frightened of him all day.)
(Just an aside, his wife is a doll. His daughter, when I last saw them was a tiny little blond girl. Beautiful, and precocious, and so utterly in love with her father that she was always in his arms when they were together. She strokes his cheek and looks into his face with complete love. I never saw a crowd reaction to him with his daughter in his arms.)
Me, I tell people “I need to be where you are.” I say it in a pleasant tone of voice. People get out of my way. Maybe they think I will bring them switches and cinders at Christmas if they don’t.
Tris
P. S.: My butt is not of monumental stature. My belly, on the other hand has room for mural. A big mural. Maybe the “History of the Roman Empire”, or “Panorama of the Mississippi”.
