Smile like you mean it

Lau, one of my good friends, recently started a pretty cool job.

By "pretty cool" I mean "I kind of wish I had it. Kind of."

She works at the Barneys in Beverly Hills.

I spoke to her today and asked her how she was enjoying her new job.

Lau: Well, I get commission on what I sell, so that's pretty exciting. I'm fighting fools for the jewelry and suit section. They make bank.

Me: Nice.

Lau: And I also like the jewelry section 'cause that's where I've bumped into cool celebrities. They've all been really nice.

Me: Ooo! Like who?

Lau: Well, I helped Kim Kardashian the other day. She's a cool chick. But my all-time favorite so far has to be Jack Nicholson.

Me: BITCH! I hate you!

Lau: Dude, AnoMALIE... I now understand why that man has had so many ladies in his life. He was such a gentleman! To top it all off, he told me I had a "beautiful smile." Awesome man, quite the charmer.

This warmed my heart.

Why? Because she's part of my "Gummy-Smile Crew." 

Red lipstick. Kudos to Lau.

Complementing our smile is like... telling us we won a lottery.

Gummy-smiles... they're... something.

I'm super self-conscious about a lot of things on my face (actually, I'm self-conscious about everything), but my smile is a top issue... although it might not be obvious, since I have the tendency to smile like a horse on all of my photos:

Ugh... this is what happens when I'm super excited. It's real, but gross.

It amazes me how I can make my upper lip nearly vanish when I'm ecstatic.

I find it ugly and gross. No one should know me that intimately except for my dentist.

I've heard of "corrective" surgery for it, but come on, how stupid would that be? You get corrective surgery on a cleft palate... a deviated septum... a botched boob-job... but for your lip? Weak-sauce, homie! Plus, I'm a chump when it comes to surgical procedures. I've had a total of... zero.

Instead, I opt to just sit there and think of "appropriate" ways to smile.

And I usually end up with shit like this when I think "appropriate" prior to photos:

It looks like I'm hiding food. 

Now it looks like I'm having difficulty breathing through my nose. 

Starting to lose control.

Luckily, even public figures suffer from this:

The president of the club. I love this woman!

It's just inevitable. When we're being real-- like a dog telling you to stay the fuck away from his food-- we flash the gums. When we give up and just want you to put the camera away and leave us alone, you get the fake-not-so-gummy smile. 

We also take into consideration that not many people are happy to be acquainted with our soft tissue, which leads to the safer, fake smile. 

So, when someone compliments the real smile... well... that's... that can get you laid.

I'm stoked Jack Nicholson didn't compliment me on my smile... it would really suck to have to hand over my V Card to a 73 year old player.