The highlight of my week had to have been the old man in the radiology waiting room who insisted on taking a series of photographs of me with his lens literally less than an inch away from my face -- not only fulfilling every woman's lifelong dream of magnifying their every single pore and crow's foot for the whole world to see, but making me look as though you're looking at me through one of those distorting peepholes you have on your entrance door. You know, kinda like when you're looking into a spoon?
Just as I was trying to (unsuccessfully) derive some sort of personal satisfaction from casting aside my own vanity in order to show compassion for a frail elderly cancer patient and his harmless little camera, he casually FYI'd me that his current art projects involve his own whiskers being glued to various photos he takes and he's currently in the process of figuring out how to incorporate human ashes in his art.
I am now officially guilty of 1.) having called a frail elderly cancer patient a creep, 2.) having asked him in front of a waiting room full of people if he was a serial killer and 3.) threatening him with firm legal action should he choose to include me in his art.
See you next time.