A couple of nights ago I was listening to Loveline and they had a caller in her early twenties who had only just discovered that she had an extra nipple. I scoffed. Oh, how I scoffed.
And then today I found one on ME.
How can this be? I'm 28! I don't even want the boobs I've got!
I always knew it was there, but I thought it was just a weird raised extra-sensitive mole. It was only when I was reading about the phenomenon on Google that I realized my mole was along the classical mammalian booby line and investigated more closely. At that point it finally hit me that the damn thing looks exactly like a miniature tittyswitch. It even has a partial aureola! How did I miss that?
Then came denial. This is not my beautiful radio dial tuned to 69.1, the Pleasure Station! Then anger. What wretched god of whimsy glued this misguided little endcap on there, and why couldn't they have put another one in on the other side for symmetry?
At this point I skipped depression because that's boring and landed straight on exhuberant acceptance. What novelty! What fun! Shall I pierce it? Shall I put ice on it and see if it gets hard? Cover it with a sticker for modesty in the event of tank top malfunction? Take photos and post them to the internet so my enemies can mock me to my very dying hour? Oh, I'm so excited by all these new possibilities!
Superfluous Nipple, you're the best toy ever.