He's Seen It All

The man whose life is a complicated word problem of math came up to the front desk this morning and said, "So I told my wife the idea of me talking about my life into a mini-recorder and she thought it was really cool."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah.  Because you know, I have stories even from birth.  Like I was born at six months."

I frowned slightly.  "Really?"

"Yeah," he said.  "I was born without eyelids or fingernails."

"What."  I looked at him, astounded.  "You're the Liz Taylor of the lodge!"

Just kidding.

"What."  I looked at him, astounded.  "Without eyelids?  How did you grow them?"

"They put plastic covers over my eyes to keep the moisture in so they'd develop."

"No eyelids..." I say.

"Yeah," he says, looking proud of himself.

"I'm sad this is my last night of work because I feel like you could just keep walking up to me every morning and telling me some new fact about yourself that's interesting and weird."

He is the Tycho Brahe of the lodge.  In case you didn't know, there are endless interesting facts about the life of Tycho Brahe.  In fact I should make a tear-off calendar of 365 interesting facts about Tycho Brahe.  Or maybe it would have alternating facts about Tycho and this man at my work.  I would sell it at next year's Bluegrass Festival.  Everyone that's high (so, everyone) would like it even if they didn't know who either of those people are.

Oh and also, if the tear-off calendar led to a book deal, as tear-off calendars do, I would definitely use the born-without-eyelids fact as the central metaphor of his life.