Arguing Over Ugly
And trying to make beautiful women smile
Glen and Martin were walking down Main Street towards each other. After meeting up they shook hands then Glen pointed towards a bench in front of a barber shop, “You got time to sit and chat for a while?”
“Sure.”
The two old men walked over to the bench and sat; Glen to the left and Martin to the right.
“So Marty, I haven’t seen ya in a couple of months. Whatchya been up to?”
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Just living. You?”
“Yeah… me, too. Oh, but guess what? I started painting again. I’ve been working on the painting for like six weeks — and I’ve still got a ways to go. But it kind of feels good to work on a painting again, even if I know it’s never gonna sell. I don’t care anymore. It’s just a way to pass the time now.”
Martin had seen Glen’s paintings and did not care for them. Glen’s technique was to take a photograph of something he liked then try to recreate it exactly with paint on a canvas. Martin figured that if one wants a picture of something one should take a photo of it but if one wants to create something then they should paint something from their imagination.
“I’m painting an old airplane I saw sitting next to an old barn over in Steubenville. The plane probably hasn’t been in the air in forty years. It’s just sitting there decaying,” he laughed. “Kind of like us.”
Just then a young woman who was very stylishly dressed with socially accepted attributes of beauty was walking past the bench. She was perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties.
Glen spoke up, “Hello there. It sure is a lovely day, isn’t it?”
The young woman turned her head to look at Glen. A scowl quickly spread over her face then she looked forward walking past them.
“Did you see that, Marty? How rude. I was just being nice. I wasn’t asking her out or anything. I know I’m old and ugly but she could at least have been civil. She could at least have smiled or something. I just wanted to see if her smile was as pretty as she was. But the ladies just won’t give ya the time of day if you’re old and ugly.”
Martin rubbed his face with both hands, “That doesn’t seem to stop you, though.”
Glen turned to Martin, “Of course it doesn’t stop me. The ladies have been treating me that way all my life but I don’t crawl into a hole and hide. I might be old and ugly but I’ve still got testosterone runnin’ through these veins. If I see a beautiful lady I can’t help but show my appreciation. So what’s your deal? Have you completely run out of testosterone or something?”
“Well… uh… maybe I have. But I can appreciate a beautiful woman without needing to react. I love beautiful women but I don’t have the need to get in their space. It’s like I enjoy staring at beautiful snow-capped mountains but I have no desire to climb to their summits. I’m over all that.”
“You’re over all that? Well, you may as well be dead. I may be too old to climb a mountain but I’m never too old to try to get a lady to smile at me. If I’m ever too old for that you can stick me in the ground and start shoveling dirt on me.”
Martin turned back to look out over the street, “Well, I guess you and I are just different. But ya know what? In one respect we are indeed the same.”
“Oh? And how’s that?”
“We’re both ugly old men.”
They both erupted in laughter.
After the laughing subsided Glen spoke up, “Well, you know, I’ve been ugly my whole life and the ladies have always treated me like that one did. But that never stopped me. I never gave up. Being old now just makes things even harder. Being both ugly and old really sucks.”
“Well, I haven’t always been ugly. Back when I was in my twenties and thirties I was seriously hot. I was gorgeous. Women flocked to me. I practically had to beat them off with a stick.”
“Yeah right.”
“It’s true, Glen. It was almost like a curse. When I walked down the street every female head turned — and a few male ones, too. I was seriously handsome. And I exuded serious energy. I could have had any woman I wanted but I only went after the absolutely most beautiful ones; the most challenging ones. Oh yeah, what a time that was. But you know what? Losing my good looks was the best thing that ever happened to me. It allowed me to get serious about life and stop wasting my time on the silly dating/mating game.”
“Well, all I can say to that is fuck you!”
Martin laughed, “Well, that illustrates the difference between us. I like being old and ugly. It’s nice. I no longer have to beat off women. But you’re not happy being old and ugly. You keep trying. You’re still chasing after it.”
“Let me put our difference this way; you gave up and I didn’t. I’ll do whatever I can to get a smile out of a lady while you don’t even care anymore. What funeral home are you registered with?”
Martin laughed, “Actually, I’m living more now than I ever have.”
The two ugly old men sat in silence for a while then Martin turned to Glen, “You’ve never talked about it before but were you ever married?”
Glen rubbed his hand over his gray beard stubble, “Yeah, I was married once. ‘Bout fifty years ago. It lasted two years and three days before she left me. Thank God she never got pregnant. I’ve never been married since. Don’t want to. I like the ladies but I don’t care for marriage or family. I prefer flying solo. I look around at other guys our age and they’ve been married fifty or sixty years and I’d rather shoot myself in the foot. I’ve never wanted that ball and chain around my ankle. I think you’ve mentioned being married before, right?”
“Three times. Once for three years, once for nine years and once for eighteen years. It’s like some weird mathematical thing. I always pictured myself growing old with my third wife. I was already getting ugly by the time she dumped my ass. It ripped my heart out and I decided that I was going to get old by myself. And that is when I got on the road to being happy. I get older and uglier with each passing year but I also get happier. Her leaving me for that no-account sushi chef was one of the best things that ever happened to me. There’s no way I would ever even consider getting married again.”
“So I guess we have a disdain of marriage in common.”
“Darn tootin’!”
They both laughed.
Glen then tapped Martin on the forearm, “Don’t look now but there’s a hot lady coming our way. This time I’m not gonna say anything. I’m just gonna sit here. This time you’re gonna say something and we’ll see how she reacts.”
“I don’t wanna do that.”
“You have to. It’s a dare.”
“Okay, but I’m not gonna say anything but she’ll still look at me and smile. You can see how it’s done.”
“You’re on.”
Martin began staring at the approaching woman who was looking straight ahead and not at the two ugly old men. His eyes were following her but not in a leering way but rather a very subdued way.
Just as the woman was about to pass the two men on the bench she turned her head and looked at Martin. And then she smiled! And then she said, “Hi.”
In response Martin smiled and said, “Hi.”
The woman kept walking and was soon gone. She never even looked at Glen.
Glen looked at Martin, “That doesn’t count because you said something.”
Martin smiled, “Yeah but not until after she said something. I may be ugly and old but I’ve still got the mojo.”
Glen’s face contorted into a disapproving frown as he quietly said, “Fuck you.”
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.
Speaking of relationships…
