Mirror, Mirror

He stood in front of the mirror for what seemed like hours, carefully examining his face, its features, memorizing every detail and noting every self-perceived flaw.  Turning his head this way and that way, he strained to see his profile out of the corner of his vision.  From the front, at a dead-on glance, he observed, he could be mistaken for a relatively handsome fellow.  It was only when viewed from a flanking position that he took on the appearance of a rat. 
     For years he had suspected himself guilty of the crime of unattractiveness, but he was always able to blow it off; he had always found some way to distract himself, to avoid the issue.  Now, it was staring him directly in the face and he knew there was no way he could ever out-run his own reflection. He reached for his toothbrush, and began to brush his teeth.  As the peppermint-flavored paste foamed in his mouth, tingling his gums and giving him the appearance of a rabid animal, he glared into the mirror, angered at the way his top row of teeth over-lapped his bottom row of teeth.
     After spitting and rinsing, and doing the Listerine thing, he returned once again to his detailed self-inspection.  He noticed how his ears appeared to be lop-sided, sort of uneven-even. He swiftly found his sunglasses and put them on to test his theory.  He concluded that either his eyes or ears were uneven, or his nose was crooked.  He preferred to think his ears were the offending members simply because they could most easily over-looked.
     He turned from the mirror, exiting the bathroom in disgust.  He laughed aloud as he thought silently, giving himself the label, “God’s little practical joke.”  How anyone could ever be attracted to an ugly scab like him was a complete mystery.  But, he reasoned, at least he had come face to face with the reason for his dreaded loneliness; at least, now, he knew better than to blame himself.  You don’t always get dealt a winning hand. Sometimes, you just gotta play the hand your dealt.