For the first time in my life I am writing as a normal person, as I no longer am the freak that I have always been. For those of you who only know me on MySpace, I've been carrying on a lie. I tried to fit in, and I may have duped you folks. I feel terrible, but you see it's not easy dealing with the way things were.
Well now things have been fixed. I can't wait to buy gloves; I can't wait to count on my fingers; I can't wait to hold a girls hand, as it will be so much more natural now. You see, I suffered from hexadactyly.
It may seem shocking, but I had six fingers on each hand. As a kid I was ridiculed and dismissed as a freak. In time I learned to take advantage of the situation by becoming a world class pitcher with a wicked curve ball (you'll be amazed how much extra spin you get with 25% more fingers). I also developed some great ball handing skills playing basketball (they used to call me white chocolate for some reason). It was all bitter sweet, as after a big play or after the game, no one wanted a high six. Not even members of the other team would shake my hands. Alone and dejected, winning didn't seem to matter. Soon nothing in life mattered. Girls wouldn't want to be near me, guys teased me, and even my own parents shunned me. I was a complete failure in life, so much so that when I tried to kill myself, my extra finger got caught behind the trigger. I had to have the gun sawed off of my hand, and sure enough I was subjected to even harsher insensitivities.
I moved off to college, and things became better. I tried to hide my awkward paw from everyone, and things seemed normal. One day this cute chic noticed, and she seemed to stare—Damn! Not this again. She turned, and she looked as if she were going to run away, but she pulled a tail out of her jeans (with that odd bulge in her pants, I was worried she may have been something weirder like a tranny). She smiled, and I waved my six fingers at her (her name is Amber). We quickly bonded, and it felt so wonderful to finally have a friend. Time passed, and everything was wonderful, until … One day we were rolling around in the grass in front of Library West, and Amber's tail popped out. Surrounded by Krishnas and other oddities, it almost didn't stick out. Sadly a talent scout for the circus was there, and Amber had the chance of her lifetime to be with other odd people and get to go to a city filled with what could best be described as rejects. She was offered a scholarship to join FSU's Circus (I'm not shitting you, the fucking dump has an on campus circus, complete with degree programs).
After that heartbreak, I moved to Ohio, where I read farming accidents can be quite common, and fingers usually are the first to go. It's hard to find work when you're from out of state, try not to shake hands, and ask how often accidents happen (with an odd tone implying that more is better). Well, I ended up working my ass off, getting splinters (in all 12 fingers), and I left dejected and with all my fingers intact.
Then I went to Columbus, started working at Nationwide in hopes that insurance will cover the procedure to make me normal. Getting hired was tough, because I needed finger prints for state and federal licenses, and well mine are a little outside the box. Literally, there are boxes for 5 fingers, how rude. What about people like me? Anyway, that is behind me, as are my two extra fingers. The operation was a success, and I'm figuring out what to do with those extra fingers. They have been such a part of my life; I don't want to throw them away. Any ideas?
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