Not just a failure. A total, complete, utter failure. The logic of this conclusion was unassailable. I had no family. I had no friends. I had no sex. At the age of 33, I was still a virgin. Part of the problem was my appearance. Every time I saw my reflection in the mirror, I shuddered. It was not that I was ugly. That might have been tolerable. Really ugly individuals can look striking. Often, people look at them and expect the worst. When they find some redeeming trait they are usually surprised and pleased. I fell just a trifle short of being ugly. My mousy colored hair was thin, but I was not bald. While my features were all regular enough, they somehow seemed oddly mismatched. The thick, horned rimmed glasses I wore seemed to emphasize my nondescript face. I was slightly under average height. With my round shoulders and large rear, I resembled what one obnoxious classmate had dubbed me, “Pear Shape.” Although I was not exactly timid looking, my wan smile and round face lacked any vestige of character or personality.
