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I have a confession to make. I have Bitch Face and I’m scared that there isn’t a cure. You know what Bitch Face is, it’s that face you make when you are less than happy with whatever is going on in your current fishbowl. If you are lucky, no one notices the split second you have your Bitch Face on. However, I am always caught!

Do I hate you? No. I love you as much as I love my giant sombrero.

I must hold the expression too long or something and I always end up getting called out on it. The problem is, I’m not really a bitch! It’s just a face I make. I don’t mean for it to convey any lasting emotion of dislike towards whatever caused it.

Let me give you an example. Recently I was at a bar talking to a beautiful woman and she said something stupid.

Beautiful Woman: Did you like Backstreet Boys when you were younger?

Me: Oh yeah, totally. Quit playin games with my heart fool!

BW: Ha. Didn’t you hate N’Sync? I hated them because they were a rip off of the Backstreet Boys. They stole everything! Blah blah blah blah. Justin Timberlake, perm, blah.

There was Bitch Face. Poor BW withered in the heat of my glare and went to find someone else to listen to her passionate dissertation on 90’s pop bands. The worst part is that everyone can tell I don’t find BW’s conversation scintillating. “You hate that girl,” a friend said to me after the encounter. “I don’t! I like her. She just said one stupid thing, I say stupid things all the time!” [i.e. everything I’ve ever said or written on this blog] So I don’t hate BW, but she and everyone else think I hate her. Which really blows. Who knows all the potential friendships that haven’t blossomed because of my freaking face.

Bitch Face also happens when I see something I don’t like. This is the most problematic when I walk into a bar and it looks dirty or too crowded or I see someone I want to avoid. My friends see the Bitch Face come out and automatically assume I want to leave. “No, no!” I assure them, “I want to give it a try, my face will go back to normal soon. I promise. I’m sorry!”

The consequences? Whenever my friends want to go to that bar, they will look at me and say “But TAS doesn’t want to go there, so we can’t.” Then I will have to apologize for my face again.

What’s the moral of this story? If you see me and I look like a bitch, just come say hi. I’m actually really nice. Also, if you see a girl who looks like a bitch, don’t write her off. She could just have a really bad case of Bitch Face.

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