The Eye of the Beholder…



I have a friend, Consuela, who had a habit of judging people on their appearance. At work, shopping and just about town, she was always commenting on the looks of others. That one’s shoes didn’t match her dress, his nose is too big or she needs to find another hair stylist. I must say that Connie, herself,  was always “dressed to the nines” which enhanced her natural beauty.

Nobody I know took more pains with their own appearance. I don’t know, maybe this made Connie feel better about her own flaws. Whatever the reason, Connie took pains to point out the shortcomings of others.

One day, while exiting Wal Mart, she saw an old acquaintance, Lucy, in the parking lot. Lucy, as usual, was disheveled. Her blouse didn’t match her pants, her hair looked as though it had been combed with a weedeater and one shoe was untied. Connie thought to herself, If I could just spend a week working on that girl she could be quite attractive!

They exchanged pleasantries and as Connie was walking away, the heel on her shoe snapped and she hit the pavement like a sack of potatos. There she sat, in an oil stain, with a rapidly swelling ankle. Lucy looked back once and then continued to walk away. Dazed and embarrassed, Connie picked herself up and hobbled toward a bench, all the while wondering why Lucy didn’t come to her aid.

As Connie plopped down on the bench, shoe broken, ankle swollen, dress oil-stained, sweat-drenched and hair mussed, she noticed an old man and a dog at the other end of the bench. Not just any dog though-this was the ass-ugliest dog she’d ever seen. One eye blue the other brown, knobby-kneed, warts with hair bristling, patches of fur missing and a scraggly tail. This dog was a trainload of ugly; a repulsive, slobbering mound of DNA gone very, very wrong.

Opium“, the man said. “I beg your pardon“, Connie haughtily retorted? “Opium. Your perfume is Opium, if I’m not mistaken“, the old man answered. “Why, yes it is! You must have a very good nose“, said Connie. “Well, God giveth and taketh“, the old man offered. “How do you like my dog , Suzie“, the man asked? “Isn’t she a beauty“, he inquired? Connie sat in stunned silence contemplating this tail-wagging, year’s-worth of ugly. “Yeah, we’ve been together for six years now. Best friend I ever had“, he told Connie. “Well, it’s about time for lunch. Nice to have met you“, said the blind man as he rose, picked up his cane, reached for Suzie’s harness and made his way toward home.

tom vickers