The Day I Realized Everything Isn't Fair

One day, years ago, my family was visiting my grandfather in Pennsylvania.

I was at an age which put me directly in the middle of my Hundred Years War with Acne.  Not only was this fight excruciatingly long, but it was hard fought as well.  The frontlines stretched irritatingly far.  Active battlegrounds included not only the typical Chin, Nose, and Forehead, but also the meddlesome Shoulders and dreaded Back.

My body was a war-torn wasteland, made desolate by the bastard: Acne.

So, anyway, we're in Pennsylvania visiting my grandfather.  We were just sitting around as he regaled us with some wonderfully long-winded tale about how he bought a new calf from the local Amish auction. 

My attention span was reaching a breaking point and I was pretending the shag carpet that I was sitting on was a TaunTaun that I would soon cut open and crawl inside like Luke Skywalker.

My mother leered at me sideways as I make lightsaber noises at the carpet.

In my mind, I'd nearly crawled inside the beast when my parents and grandfather stood up and began to put on coats.

I looked up at them.  "Where are we going?"

"Grandpa wants to show us the Amish market where he bought his calf."

We piled into my grandfather's beat up Ford truck and rumbled down increasingly bumpy roads toward this fabled Amish village.

Up until this point I only vaguely knew what the word "Amish" meant.  I knew that Amish people lived without electricity or any modern conveniences, and I knew that for whatever reason, they did this on purpose.

I turned on my GameBoy.  This car ride was boring.

The next time I looked back up from my game was when we finally came to a stop in a gravel lot.

I looked up to see an old man with an enormous neck beard ride by in a carriage drawn by a mule.

"Here we are," said my grandfather.

I stepped out of the car.

I spotted a few more men standing about.  All in overalls and all sporting neckbeards with length correlated to age.

"So none of these people use electricity?"  I asked as my GameBoy played the theme song to "Pokemon" loudly.

"Nope," my grandfather informed, "they don't use anything modern.  No cars, no toasters, and they only use herbs and roots for medicine."

I followed my grandfather and parents over to a sagging shack in which two Amish girls were standing.  The only thing that was missing was a sign that said "Ye Olde Lemonade Stande."

As we got closer, I could see that, in fact, the girls were not peddling lemonade, but rather beans and corn and other farm crops heaped in wooden crates.

"Mom, do the kids choose to be Amish too?"

"No, honey.  They have to stay with their parents.  They can leave when they get older if they want to, though."

God, I thought.  What a bleak existence this must be.  What do they do all day?  Who would do this to their children?

"Hi girls," my grandfather said as he reached them.  "What's looking good today?"

They chatted about broccoli or something while I looked at the girls.  They both seemed about my age.  One of them was actually quite attractive, in an unadorned kind of way.  Her hair was covered in a bonnet and her skin was smooth and clear.

Then she looked at me.

She looked at the cratered surface of my face and sneered in disgust.  She literally recoiled.  I felt like Frankenstein's beast.

She continued to look at me, or rather at my face.  She touched her own face as she did this, as if thinking to herself, "I might be Amish, but thank God I don't look like that cretin."

Seriously? 

I eat three $5 dollar pills a day that a Dermatologist prescribed for me after my first prescription wasn't strong enough; I wash my face twice a day with a milky liquid that's full of tiny, razor sharp beads that shred my already delicate skin; and then before bed, I cake a thick gel onto my face that feels like fresh napalm and leaves a Phantom of the Opera mask on my pillowcase the next morning, but this girl who isn't even allowed to take medicine, HER FACE IS PERFECTLY CLEAR?  SHE SLEEPS ON HAY!  HOW COULD THIS BE?

Why had God smiled upon this girl but slapped me across the face with a zit hammer?

That's when I realized that life, truly, is not fair.

--

Then I turned up my GameBoy music and walked back to the air-conditioned car.  So who's really the winner in this scenario?

We'll call it a tie.