Alex didn’t really like being a leper. He thought that, on balance, not being a leper was better than being one. However, he couldn’t change the fact that he had leprosy. So, he decided to make the best of it.

“Alex? My God, I haven’t heard from you in years! What? Well, no, Alex, I can’t do that. I guess you haven’t heard. I’m married now. What? I am not a leprophobe. I jus- what? No, my husband isn’t a leprophobe either! You have to understand that I take my vows- what? Civil rights? Oh. Okay, eight o’clock”.

Alex wasn’t exactly received warmly in most public places but he wasn’t denied entry either. This being America, the land of the lawyer, no one dared tell him he couldn’t come in except John Gotti. Gotti didn’t care if he got sued or not. Lawyers were easy to bury.

Alex was a good tipper. He always left at least twenty per cent. Once in a while he also left a tip of a finger too. He hated that. He usually went into the bathroom to check and see if he had everything he’d arrived with. He lost the bottom of his right ear one night at Arby’s. He had the whole staff and half the patrons looking for it. He found it later in his shirt pocket.

He noticed that people didn’t offer to shake hands with him and seemed a little offish when he offered. He knew they wanted to mop their hands on their clothes but wouldn’t in front of him. He ran into an old buddy from high school one time. His buddy gave Alex a high five and knocked Alex’s hand a good ten feet away.

Alex didn’t have to shave. He just peeled a layer of skin off his face and he was done.

Fortunately for Alex, lepers weren’t driven out of town by loud villagers carrying torches and pitchforks. Also fortunately for Alex, the government no longer disposed of you on some island being utilized as a leper colony. Alex thought it was one thing for him to be a leper but he didn’t want to live around a bunch of them- or one, for that matter.