When I was 18, I told the most elaborate lie of my life and I did it because I was lazy.
I worked at the meat department of a grocery store where the assistant manager, Harold Johnson (a pseudonym), was known for recruiting meat department employees to stock shelves. That wasn’t my job and I was determined to avoid it. Read more
When I was a teenager, I was grateful that I had few zits on my face. I hated, however, the fact that I had them all over my back.
It was a social hazard to go swimming or change my shirt around other teens. I couldn’t bear the thought of my peers seeing my acne-covered back and being grossed out by me. So I did the only thing I knew to effectively get rid of it: I baked my fair skin in the sun until it burned. Read more