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The Look

I haven't really sat down to think about it much until now, but as my whiskey hungover mind was thinking over the events that transpired at the bar last night this morning, one thing that popped out to me is that people like to comment on my "look". I was hanging out with a friend at the bar and, as young drunk people tend to do, we were taking goofy photos together. She said, "Oh my god you look crazy," when she saw that I was trying to pull off my war-face in one of the photos.

Another night at a house party I met a girl and the morning after the party was over, everyone was hanging out and laughing at all the stupid shit that had happened. I could tell she had some stuff going on that she wanted to talk about so I asked her to sit down across from me on the floor so we could have a conversation. She sat down next to me but then immediately got up and left as soon as we made eye contact. She said something like, "I don't like it when you look into my eyes. It's, like, you scare me."

Another night at the bar I met a smoking hot black girl with tits that would inspire a more musically inclined man to write a song about how beautiful and bouncy she was. She dug men with beards so we were getting along well, right up until she asked, "Are you on drugs? Your pupils are too big." I said, "Yes, I'm on the same drugs as you. Alcohol and life." What I said would have been a funny burn on her that she might have appreciated had I not said it with anger in the tone of my voice. I wasn't being loud but sometimes I lock eyes with whomever I'm talking to and deliver my lines straight and that's too much for some people to handle. She got scared and left. I cursed at myself for taking things too seriously, yet again.

When I was doing my gig as a Learning Assistant, which is someone who walks around during scheduled lab time to assist students with their coursework, I worked underneath a professor. I remember one day I was doing my usual rounds around the lab when he commented, "You look like you have a thousand-yard stare." I think by saying that, he might have been suggesting that I try to be more approachable by un-scrunching my forehead, uncrossing my arms, smiling a bit more, and stopping myself from drilling into students' eyes with my own. From what I remember, I think I just grunted, "Mmmm..." at this comment and didn't change my demeanor at all.

If I dropped my mean-guy look, would I be more approachable? Would I have served in my teaching role better? Would I have made those conversations with the bar ladies last longer? Would I better present myself in such a way that makes people comfortable being around me?

Yes. All those things would be true if I softened up my demeanor. If I uncrossed my arms, quit staring into folks' eyes, turned my lopsided grimace into a cute little smile or smirk, and lowered my volume, I'd serve the role that others want me to play better. But what people can't seem to understand, and that I constantly struggle to get across, is that I'd be compromising my own vision of who I want to be if I took those suggestions to heart.

So the war-face will stay. Maybe I'm in a bad mood. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm happier than you realize. I'll continue to do my best to wear my war-face despite what's going on inside. By wearing it I will continue to confuse and stress some people out. GOOD.