Comedy

Published on June 16th, 2021 | by Craig Silliphant

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The Great Zoom Boom and Cosmetic Surgery: I Was A Middle-aged Moleman

Cosmetic surgery is up 90% in this Zoom Boom. In a comedic piece, Craig fights against a gross mole that tried to take him over.

The inability to meet face-to-face during Covid has led to a Zoom Boom in video conferencing technology. We’ve all learned how to make sure we’re muted, the importance of waiting your turn to talk, and the etiquette of not wearing pants below the camera line.

But Zoom isn’t just a way to see other people. It’s a mirror.

Whenever I log on, there I am, staring back at myself. And like Narcissus of Greek mythology, I am vain enough to get lost in my own eyes. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ll admit you do it too.

And like many, I don’t always like what I see.  

Terry O’Reilly, the marketing guru and host of CBC’s Under the Influence said that during the Zoom Boom, cosmetic surgery has exploded. Botox and fillers are up 90%.

I can believe it. Because I altered my own appearance.

No, I didn’t get blimpy lips, butt enhancements, or have my face rearranged to look like Ewan McGregor (though my wife would dig that).

I had a mole on my forehead.

It wasn’t there a few years ago, but it had been steadily growing; it was about the size of a dime. An ugly brown dime that had my kids pointing at it and asking, “Daddy, what is that thing? Kids are annoyingly honest, aren’t they?

I hated it. It spoke to me on Zoom. I couldn’t hear the voices of the others on the call. All I could hear was the mole, taunting me. A voice in my head that sounded strangely like Austin Powers shouting, “Moley, moley, moley!”

Rationally, I’m sure no one else really noticed the mole. But in my mind, people saw it and wanted to gasp. They balled up their courage and steeled themselves, holding conversation with me while trying desperately to hold in their vomit.

They silently wondered, does he shave it? Will something horrible and alien burst from it? Will it achieve sentience? Is he turning into a mole? Will he dig a hole in the ground and live as a mole man, shunned from society?

Yes, this is what I’m thinking about when I look like I’m paying attention to you on Zoom.

I decided to do something about this stupid mole before it took me over completely. I wanted it removed and I’d have used any amount of goat-sacrifice or witchcraft to make it happen. Thankfully, for both me and the goat, science and technology had me covered.

I went to a cosmetic clinic, sat in a chair, and was hit with a searing laser beam. I couldn’t see the laser because the doctor had covered my eyes to protect them. But I assumed it was a giant Dr. No laser gun that deployed from the ceiling. 

I said, “Do you expect me to talk?” The doctor replied coolly, “No, Mr. Silliphant…I expect you to die — of happiness, once we remove your gross mole!”

It left a nasty wound that stung pretty good for a few days. It looked red and angry and like it was oozing radioactive slime, though that was just Polysporin. People began staring at the wound, trying to politely not ask me what happened.

(Yes, there were actually two moles).

After a week or so, it healed. Now I have a big red spot instead of a big brown spot. But that will disappear over time. The worst that people can think now is that I took a frisbee to the skull. I love my beautiful red spot.

Thanks to modern science and my crippling vanity, I can now probably focus on what you’re saying to me in our Zoom meeting. Though, the voice in my head still has things to say. It thinks my hairline could use some work. And how about that waistline paunch? Did someone mention butt implants?

The voice won’t be satisfied until I’m some sort of Six Million Dollar Bionic Man.

Me, I’m just happy I won’t have to live below the sewers as a mole man.

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About the Author

is a D-level celebrity with delusions of grandeur. A writer, critic, creative director, editor, broadcaster, and occasional filmmaker, his thoughts have appeared on radio, television, in print, and on the web. He is a juror on the Polaris Music Prize and the Juno Awards. He loves Saskatoon. He has horrible night terrors and apocalyptic dreams.



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