Me vs. the Pimple

I have an enormous pimple on my chin.

I'm not exaggerating -- this thing is giant. You can see it on my face from twenty paces away. I don't think I have had a pimple this big since seventh grade and during that breakout a bitchy girl in my French class called me "pizza face." No, I have never forgotten that, Natalie.

To make matters worse this is one of those annoying pimples that hurts. It is sitting on my face, glaring out at the world with its ugly redness and causing me pain. And there's nothing I can do about it. When I noticed it last night I tried to pop it, to smush it, to force it back into my face -- but it wouldn't budge. I slathered zit cream on it twice, and then once again this morning but it still stood tall. This morning I tried to cover it with concealer and then foundation -- but then I just looked like a girl with a big pimple and lots of make-up on. So, I decided there was only one way to defeat the pimple -- flatter it.

I pointed out my large facial deformity to everyone I saw. I praised it's massive ugliness and talked about how it had defeated my efforts to eradicate it. I have turned my pimple into a dermatological celebrity. This way I know people are looking at it, but I have made them look. My pimple hasn't drawn them in -- making them discreetly look out of the corners of their eyes at the large red mound on my face, wondering if I have some biblical disease. They look and laugh and curse the pimple with me. I have won.

Now I just want the damn thing to go away.