I bite my fingernails shamelessly.
It's not that I'm nervous or hungry. Something about having my fingers in my mouth makes me feel secure. I'm a thumb-sucker turned thumb-biter, grooming myself in the same way a dog licks his testicles.
Which, by the way, I would totally do if I was more flexible.
I really go at it. I move mechanically from finger to finger, nibbling and gnawing, leaving a trail of slobber and crescent-shaped nail shavings. I peel away skin with my incisors. My eyes stare off into space from behind my fist, no thinking going on behind them.
After years of constant weathering, my fingernails have become fragile, as if they're too afraid to grow. These Neverland nails are tiny and white along the edges, like the crests of jagged waves. Grime has sealed the little crevices that have formed after the amateur manicures.
The real damage is along the perimeter. A deep, red trench has formed between nail and skin, with little strands of scar tissue poking out, waiting to be clipped like rogue twigs from a hedge.
My fingertips are scarred and disfigured, like those of the serial killer from "Seven." Will I use my fingerprint-less anonymity to murder the sinful with an ironic flair? Probably not. That takes time - more time than a nail-biter has.
People notice the aftermath. "What happened to your fingers?" they ask.
"I bite my nails," I respond. "I'm stressed." A lie. It's not stress. A prolonged stage of teething maybe. But not stress.
"They look pretty bad. You should relax."
As much as I love hearing therapeutic advice from the bus driver, I have to agree the habit is inconvenient. My nubs are useless when it comes to opening soda cans and peeling wet fliers for Thai food off my windshield.
Hand contact in general worries me. Forget holding hands with a girl - it's hard enough greeting someone and with a good, old-fashioned handshake. I'm forced to palm the hand tightly and yank it in close, forcing the person to look at my face and not my scarred fingers: "I'm up here, buddy." My dad wonders why I keep getting within kissing distance of his work friends.
It's not an easy life, but it's my life. I chew on myself because it makes me feel secure. It's certainly more acceptable than getting drunk or licking your testicles.
So chew on that.
