Metatarsal
Prosopagnosia
by Michael C.
Keith
For
double the vision my eyes do see.
–– William Blake
As
Mark approached the urinal, he noticed that
someone was in the stall next to it. Small
feet, he thought and then wondered who
belonged to them. Must be a freshman, but,
jeez, those are really tiny, about a five or six.
When Mark was about to pee, the person in the
stall flushed the toilet. His curiosity
overtaking him, Mark quickly zipped up his fly
and went to the sink, pretending to wash his
hands. He had to see who was attached to the
miniature footsies.
Mark
watched in the mirror as the stall door opened.
To his surprise, out walked his friend, Jared,
who stood a good six-feet-two-inches. Mark’s
immediate response was to look at his
friend’s shoes to verify their puny
dimensions. Why hadn’t he ever noticed
the deformity?
“What?”
asked Jared to the top of his friend’s
downturned head. “Something the matter?”
“Ah
. . . yeah, man. Your feet are like a kids or
girls. They should be twice that size for your
height.”
“What
are you talking about? I wear size thirteen.”
“No
way. Maybe fives.”
“Okay,
what’s the joke?”
“No
joke. Look.”
“Yeah,
I got big feet. So what?”
“Big?
Jeez, you must be blind.”
“I
think you’re the one who’s blind,”
said Jared, waving off his friend as he left the
restroom.
Man,
is he ever in denial, concluded Mark,
unzipping his fly on his way back to the urinal.
When
he looked down at his phallus to take aim, he let
out a loud gasp.
“Where’s
the rest of it?”
|
