"
With such beautiful tattoos, I understand that it is a pity to hide them with those stockings" the doctor said today in the morning, while visiting me because of a terrible pain on my feet that it's making it impossible for me to walk, and referring to special stockings that can be needed in such cases.
He wants to be nice, and he probably thinks that his words are friendly and charming. And maybe even a little bit flirty, in a fun way.
So I keep my cool, look at him with a firm smile and reply: "Well, this is not about my tattoos, it is about me not being able to walk because of the pain. I just want the pain in my feet to stop".
After the medication, I go home with a huge white bandage that covers half of a leg and a foot. As I can walk without pain, for the first time in three days, I really don't care about the people staring at me.
[Zombie Boy posing as a polarizer that draws
so much attention while traveling on the subway
and minding his own business, 2016
It feels so familiar to me...]
Today they do that even more, and they have the "excuse" of the bandage. Some smile, some look perplexed, some seem to be dying for asking some questions. I just want to go home and take care of my feet.
While hearing about the unexpected death of Canadian model and actor Rick Genest, better known as Zombie Boy or Rico the Zombie, found dead two days ago in Montréal at the age of 32 after (apparently) committing suicide, I have to think again about what happened this morning.