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October 29, 2008
Continued from 10/26

The guard continued going through my bag. I hoped he didn't think I was messy.

"If you find my hearing in there," I said, "just let me know."

"Your earring?" he said, meeting my eyes and smiling.

"No. My hearing."

He guffawed and grinned.

Instantly I started mourning the tragic loss of my left ear's ability to function. But ever the optimist, I figured, well, at least I already knew the ASL alphabet, and I could give Marly Matlin competition insofar as hot-girl deafness was concerned.

When my hearing came back two hours later, it was anti-climactic.