.. normal.By the time I was twenty I had tried everything I could think of, andnothing had worked. I was right at the point my desperation consumed my...very waking moment.So I went to the address mentioned.And hoped.I was met at the reception desk by a pretty girl that I wished I could beattracted to, and after a long wait, I was ushered into a small officewhere a man took my information.The questions were personal, intense, and intrusive, but after an hour,the man said to me, "You will make a. ’ With that she reached up, took off her brown leather gloves, and touched my face, ever so gently. ‘Right there. I’ll show you.’ She rummaged around for a second in her purse-thing, fished out a compact – that’s what you call them, right, those little round mirror things in cases – popped it open, and pointed it at me. She was right. The icy kamikaze spitball from hell that I had created apparently had cut my face when the wind ricocheted it back at me. Back at ya’ kid! Blood had been dripping. More

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