That Handy Potpourri Spray

Today was yearbook day at school. Please, tone down the deafening cries of joy (I know you're all thrilled by that glorious news, but I have to ask you to restrain your glee). As I flipping through, thinking of the people I hate, and the people I hate a little less, and the few that I like, I couldn't help but notice a picture that stood out. Now, I'm not sure if the cameraman happened to walk in while this person was caught in a meeting with nature (thankfully the pictures are only from the chest up), but it seemed odd that someone could appear so constipated before the camera. I'm sure everyone one of you knows someone who couldn't fake a smile if Ron Howard was dancing in chaps for them. Maybe you're one of those people. Frankly, Ron Howard dancing in chaps isn't the most appealing thing, but who knows, you could be weird like that. Moving on, it became clear to me, as I sat and stared at this hideous smile, that some people just can't fake happiness. Believe me, if you saw this picture, you'd know. It's vaguely reminiscent of the look associated with walking into a restroom after someone else just used it. That's right, the sheer magnitude of the god-awful stench is much like an unwarranted bitch slap - it comes out of no where and hurts like a mother. I'm sure that all of you can imagine the expression from this point, unless you need me to hold your hand through it. The thing that struck me most odd is the fact that this person is one of the most genuinely jovial (how bout those phonics) person in the school. Constantly smiling and telling stories, bouncing around with fits of contagious laughter, this person isn't the sort you'd imagine to fake a smile. But it makes sense, doesn't it? A person as sincere and genuine can't fake their happiness. Plain and simple. It's obvious when a pecan such as that isn't happy, they don't pretend to be, and they happen to take no prisoners if rubbed the wrong way. On the other side, it's people like this that can be so gregarious and uplifting that their presence just makes everyone around feel that much better. How can we ask someone like this to fake a smile - especially for an expensive piece of shiny plastic and chrome paint known as the camera. The abhorrent fake smile is the photographic representation of this thesis: If your camera can't capture me in a truly pleasant moment, which happens to be my most preferred demeanor, then you sure as hell shouldn't expect me to fake it for you, (lest you desire the horrid someone-didn't-courtesy-flush expression).

As for me, I'd take a crappy picture over a drab reality any day. Thankfully for me, I tend to be the person who uses the bathroom first. Unfortunately, it's always the happy folk who tend to follow.