Satirical Semite: Plastic Fantastic

Last Sunday night I did something risky and bold. I walked into a pub completely naked. I was only nude from my neckline up, but it felt like hedonistic abandon. Welcome back to the maskless society.

Many people find it challenging to reveal their faces once again and see the bare faces of others, having become used to the fear of catching the virus. They keep their masks on despite being fully vaccinated. For some men, this may be because they are not yet ready to reveal a razor-free year’s worth of beard growth, which, depending on their age and ratio of gray-to-white hair, has them looking like either a Chassidic Rabbi or Santa Claus.

Lockdown was a good time to reimagine one’s look, but instead of researching hipster beard styles I ended up on the website of plastic surgeons. Many of them had pivoted their marketing early on during lockdown to focus on procedures for the upper face since that was the only part revealed above the mask. A new word I learned was “Bhleroplasty,” the removal of upper eyelid skin to reduce eyelid “hooding” when the skin gets saggy. I had never considered getting my face cut by a surgeon, but after months of staying at home it sounded like a fun day out.

An alternative to eye surgery would be to inject my forehead with botulism toxins, aka Botox. Dr. Wikipedia explains that “Botulism is a potentially fatal illness. The disease begins with weakness, blurred vision, and trouble speaking.” Dr Wiki is a square. What is the worst that can happen other than weakness, blurred vision, and trouble speaking? At least you’ll look good on Zoom.

There is a history of people using poisonous chemicals to look younger. In the 1700s it was all the rage to use face-whitening effects so as to distract from smallpox scars, decaying teeth and caved-in gums. They don’t sound like people who live in Los Angeles. A bright, white makeup was made from mixing lead with horse manure, making it both makeup and perfume. The beauty regime worked, although lots of young, wealthy people died from lead poisoning. At least they looked good in the open casket.

There is a history of people using poisonous chemicals to look younger.

I have developed a cheap stay-young procedure for the 21st century, which will make my fortune so that I can afford eyelid removal. I went to Home Depot and bought $3000 of Roundup weed killer to prevent forehead aging. It’s a bargain at $24.97 for 1.25 gallons! My accountant agreed that I can write it off as a business expense, although possibly under duress since at the time I was spraying weed killer into his face.

My plan is to set up a Roundup cosmetic stall in Whole Foods and offer a 75-minute age-stopping treatment. The weedkiller facial application only takes 10 seconds and the rest of the time is spent signing 2000 pages of legal disclaimers. If there is leftover Roundup at the end of the day, I will sprinkle it across the organic produce section, which will help keep the food fresher for longer, and I won’t even charge for this selfless public service.

My other lockdown habit helped save a small fortune of cash reserves that I can use for cosmetic enhancements. I never changed my clothes for a year, which eliminated laundry costs and water bills since I didn’t wash. Besides, Zoom has not yet added a fragrance upgrade where you can smell the person with whom you are interacting. Every two months my 24-hour pajama/ work clothes combo would disintegrate, at which point I would buy a new set from Amazon, although the delivery guy would not step within 20 feet of my house because of the fragrance emanating from it. I also saved time by not shaving, justifying it as a “hipster beard,” and removed hair product costs since after four weeks of not washing my head generated sufficient natural grease and oil to perform the styling functions of hair gel. I maintained this grooming regime after social restrictions were lifted, although I am puzzled why post-lockdown dating meetups have not been successful.

Perhaps my theory of attraction needs refinement. Napoleon famously wrote to Josephine, “Je reviens en trois jours; ne te laves pas!” (“I will return in three days. Don’t wash!”). Then again, the 19th century French Emperor who loved smelly people had faced vicious battles but never experienced the Jewish singles scene.

My next conquest is to wage war on some French people and use the battle-hardy British subterfuge of having a shower.

Marcus J Freed is an actor, writer and business consultant. www.marcusjfreed.com