V: 10/8/02

Work Diary, 10/8/02

The Scars of Allen's Body:

1. Left eye: Just above the upper lid; barely noticeable unless you
look at me full on and try to even things out. I got it at a friend's
house, after stealing his toy plane and running into the hallway. The
edge of a wall caught me full force, ripping my eyelid half off and
causing my friend to back away, his mouth a perfect "O" of
surprise.

2. Left leg, below the knee: A smooth spot that my partner uses as a
worry stone. I got it by running through the overgrown weeds of an
abandoned house, tripping, and falling on a rock. It kept me out of
school for two weeks; while it was healing, I could tap on it and
produce the rubbery sound waves of a balloon. I tried to impress my
Kindergarten teacher with it. Alas, I climbed the monkey bars too high
for her tastes and received a paddling just the same.

3. Left hand, thumb and index finger: Matching scars shaped like little
crescent moons. They were born at the same time, when a neighbor's dog
responded viciously to my gentle pat on its head. Unfortunately, I'd
stuck my hand through the chain link fence between our property and the
neighbor's. The dog didn't budge, so I sat on the ground and screamed
until another neighbor arrived and separated us.

4. Circumcision: Clearly lucked out on this one. The dark ring that
most American males share remains, but I don't have the funny little
bumps or ridges that often come with this decidedly outdated practice.
In fact, it's hard to believe it didn't come this way.

5. Right elbow: Tiny, creepy keloid I got when I crashed my uncle's
motorcycle into the side of a mountain. A miracle, really, considering
my older sister landed on top of me and knocked both my shoes
off.

6. Left big toe: A gusher, that one. Received while playing in the
bayou down the street from my house. I stepped into the foamy edge of a
spring flood and walked away saying "fuck" for the first time.

7. Eleven o'clock from my left nipple: Cancer scare, caused by the
removal of a mole that had become a black beacon on my chest. It turned
out to be benign, and so did the lump in my left armpit. Really, is
science meant to scare us?

8. Left index finger: Barely there, a sliver made by the sharp knife of
the Thai restaurant where I worked. I wore a seeping band-aid
afterwards?poor customers. What did they think?

9. Ring finger on my right hand: A choppy scar that represents the
severance of an artery and all the nerves for that finger. I can rub
the base of my hand and feel it at the tip of the finger, a great party
trick for grossing people out. Came about from slapping a wineglass in
anger - never buy cheap glass from Target. At the emergency room, a man
was kind enough to let me go first. He cited the pool of blood at my
feet, which had stained the carpet black and left me incoherent when it
came time to state my name, birthday, and address. Behind the doctor's
curtain, my partner warned of the severed artery; the doctor laughed,
only to be shot square in the eye by a perfect arc of blood. Now it was
our turn to laugh. "That's not funny in this day and age," he said, his
bedside manner instantly replaced by an entirely unnecessary bout with
AIDS Panic.