Counterfactual identity

Background: I will state now that the photos do not do justice to how realistic my hand-molded fangs appear. I have used them in the past whenever I’d volunteer at the history museum in my hometown, where the reaction upon seeing them was always something along the lines of

“Hold up, I was only going to say hi to you but would you mind smiling so I can stare at your teeth?”

And sometimes even “Are those real?”

To which the answer is sure, and no. Though I’m flattered people recognize the (not really existent) effort I put into making these teeth. And this was even in costume.

During the activity, the interactions didnt last as long as I thought they would’ve. Most of the people immediately asked why I was wearing the teeth before we exchanged names. It was an interesting observation, take it however you wish.

Out of perhaps 20 people

A large portion guessed that I was in literature or psycho/sociology, or theater or art, the medical students guessed I was in bio/chem- the big ones, but nobody really got close to any of the therapy majors. I’m a Pre-Speech Language Pathology major. Nobody guessed that I was a Freshman. I told them I am, and the upperclassmen proceeded to coddle me. A large amount of people thought I had a name that started with a vowel, the rest thought it started with a C, P, or L.

Today, I learned

People don’t always see the little things. However, people are hardwired to recognize changes in the environment, and if a little thing starts to become a suspicious- if possibly dangerous- thing, then it’s the little things that start to count, and people will take note of every little thing about you. When they saw my teeth they looked at my eyes. They studied my hairstyle and decided it was normal, decided my outfit was normal, but my teeth were odd so surely something else was out of place?

The whole scene in Little Red Riding Hood, where the girl starts loudly pointing out all of the flaws in the wolf’s disguise came to mind during this activity. It was a horrible realization.

Interaction has, and always will, make me incredibly tired.

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