Have I Met You Before?

You might remember me from such things like “Nose No Love” or “Skinny Bones Jones and the Lost Cheeseburger.”

Apparently, I’ve got a distinct face.  My name is so common that people are always texting the wrong John Kim.  Yet, people seem to remember me.  Half the time I meet people I always hear, “Have I met you before?  You look really familiar…”

I met Felicia Day twice.  She’s always moving in slow motion with a breeze romancing her auburn hair.  Even though the Queen Bee of Geeks meets with herds of adoring fans, Felicia Day remembered me.  The second time I awkwardly posed for a photo with her, she said “Hey, I’ve met you before.  You have a distinct face.  It’s a good thing.”  Really?  I don’t know.  Clint Howard has a distinct face, but I guess it’s good to be memorable.  Should I try acting?

I think it’s my Jewish nose.  It’s not often you see a ski slope at the center of a Korean face.  Or maybe it’s my asymmetric eyes.  I’m always winking like a destitutely pre-spinached Popeye.  I kind of wish my familiarity were only for my gigantic Chiclet teeth.  Moses could have etched 40 commandments if he scribed on my front chompers.  I don’t often wander aimlessly smiling like I should be wearing a helmet with an orange flag on top, so it’d be nice to have the option of blending in with the wallpaper.

I’m mostly noticed for how skinny I am.  My skin is computer tanned a perfect pale white.  Masted with a nose like a boat’s sail, I post attention like a waving flag of surrender.  Wind is not my friend.

Did you have any nicknames as a child?  Everyone called me Toucan Sam or Gonzo.  The real curse was that my bullies always smelled like soggy stray dogs after a rotted burrito binge and ravaged raping of a homeless man’s only good leg.  Fortunately, I’m a gold medalist black belt in Tae Kwon Do with a mean right hook.  My bullies stayed few and far between.  Nobody stole my Froot Loops.

[fve]http://youtu.be/sZsjVlaIhcc[/fve]

Whatever it is about my eccentric appearance that scars your memory, I’m coming to terms with being a faint Freddy strolling your Elm Street.  If you see me on a Saturday strutting like John Travolta on a trampoline, stop and say “Hi!”  I’m friendlier than my distinct face wards off.  Just don’t tickle me.  Gonzo’s a muppet. Elmo is two blocks down to the left on Sesame Street.

– John