Grotesque | Matt Nielsen
I actually had several ideas for this one, but decided to talk about a man I met at Wal-Mart, as I figured it would be most appropriate for this blog...
For those of you who don't know I worked at Wal Mart for over a year as a cashier. In that time I met many strange and off the wall people. As is my nature, though, I went out of my way to be friendly to all. I consider it professionalism. There was one gentlman, though...
He came into the store and the people parted like the Red Sea for him. His head was wrapped in bandages and he was followed by a horrible odor (which as you now know is very hard for me to deal with). I was working a register by the entrance so was instantly entranced by him. Who was this man and what could possibly be wrong with his face? He proceeded into the store and I went back to work. After about an hour, when I had pretty much forgotten about him, I noticed the stench. I am not kidding when I say it smelled of Death. I have seen death before firsthand, even having to participate in the removal of a still-born baby from the womb of its still crying mother, but never in my life had I smelled or seen anything like this. It literally made me almost gag. It was because this gentleman was in my line.
When he got to the register it took everything I had to force myself to look him in the eye, smile and be polite and professional. I could see that his face was literally rotting off of him. It was horrid yet fascinating, and it was hard not to stare. He was as friendly as could be expected from someone who has to live with something like that I suppose. I don't know if I could live with something like that. Whatever his disease it was absolutely grotesque, yet at the same time it was quite fascinating. I found myself thinking about what his life must be like all afternoon, dealing with whatever his wasting disease was.
I never saw him again, but I can still remember the stench and appearance of his rotting flesh.
This is a true story.
For those of you who don't know I worked at Wal Mart for over a year as a cashier. In that time I met many strange and off the wall people. As is my nature, though, I went out of my way to be friendly to all. I consider it professionalism. There was one gentlman, though...
He came into the store and the people parted like the Red Sea for him. His head was wrapped in bandages and he was followed by a horrible odor (which as you now know is very hard for me to deal with). I was working a register by the entrance so was instantly entranced by him. Who was this man and what could possibly be wrong with his face? He proceeded into the store and I went back to work. After about an hour, when I had pretty much forgotten about him, I noticed the stench. I am not kidding when I say it smelled of Death. I have seen death before firsthand, even having to participate in the removal of a still-born baby from the womb of its still crying mother, but never in my life had I smelled or seen anything like this. It literally made me almost gag. It was because this gentleman was in my line.
When he got to the register it took everything I had to force myself to look him in the eye, smile and be polite and professional. I could see that his face was literally rotting off of him. It was horrid yet fascinating, and it was hard not to stare. He was as friendly as could be expected from someone who has to live with something like that I suppose. I don't know if I could live with something like that. Whatever his disease it was absolutely grotesque, yet at the same time it was quite fascinating. I found myself thinking about what his life must be like all afternoon, dealing with whatever his wasting disease was.
I never saw him again, but I can still remember the stench and appearance of his rotting flesh.
This is a true story.
posted by Anonymous | 12:24 PM
3 Comments:
I don't think I can imagine what you've seen. Just think what it would be like to be the man with his skin rotting away. That can't be an easy thing to live with. I'm sure it is full of pain and disgrace on many aspects.
Aaah! Okay, I can almost smell him. But that may be because I just came from a class where we were working with formaldehyde and mothballs. Really, I know what you mean. I met a woman in England when I was there that had gangreen on her leg. She didn't believe in going to the doctor, and although I chose not to look at her wound, I could smell it everytime I went in the house.
I can't say that I have ever smelled "Death", but your description of this man is so vivid I gagged while reading it. I work as a cashier at a resturant, and I must say I would have a hard time being as professional as you were to this man.
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