Portrait of Nusch

Mr Nobody

Jay Kent

I am an invisible man. Now, that may sound like some sort of profound metaphor, perhaps highlighting my isolation from society or maybe even how lonely I am. But understand this – I am being entirely literal. I am an invisible man. If you try and look at me, you’ll see nothing. Because I’m invisible. Now, you could ask, “How is that scientifically possible? What medical condition could possibly result in your entire body being invisible?” Well, believe me, if I could visit a hospital or something to try and find a cure, I’d jump at the chance. But every time I go and make an appointment, it never gets made. Because the person at the front desk can’t see a patient there. And you can’t make an appointment with something you can’t see. So this is me. Invisible. Transparent. Other synonyms for ‘see through’.

It’s not entirely a bad thing, though. Your imagination may be like a rollercoaster, thinking of what you may do if you were invisible. Nick a packet of sweets, sit in public naked, rob a bank. I assure you, I use my condition in a very good-willed and law-abiding way. I’ll admit, as a teenager, I did attempt a few things. Successfully, too. But looking back they were a bit embarrassing. Your typical things, you know? Sneak out at night, take a few beers from behind the bar, sneak into the changing rooms of the opposite sex. I regret this, I’ll say that now, and I would not attempt anything like that again. I won’t abuse my condition. Some people will consider it a superpower, and you know that quote. With great power comes great copyright issues.

But here I am, a good 29 years old and I don’t even know what I look like. I mean, I’ve styled my hair…I think. Best as I could, y’know? I think it might look good if I was visible, but I’m not too sure. You’d think the fact that nobody can see my appearance might be a benefit for getting into relationships, because as we all know, looks don’t matter in a relationship and personality is all that matters. But, sadly, that’s not how the world works. To trigger some sort of attraction, you need a physical appearance to trigger a chemical called dopamine in your brain that makes you think someone is attractive. And that’s one of two reasons I haven’t had a relationship in my life. The second reason is because I can burst spontaneously into talking about dopamine without reason.

I usually spend my nights at home, listening to ‘Nowhere Man’ by the Beatles on repeat. I do this for at least a week per month until the song gets on my nerves, so I change the record and listen to whatever comes up on the radio. 188

Then the presenter’s voice gets predictable, so I put the Beatles back on and we’re back to square one. In fact, reflecting on my routine, my life is strangely boring. More boring than you’d expect an invisible man’s life to be. Because I know the stereotypes on Invisible Men. They float about with toilet roll wrapped around their head going ‘woooo’ and getting up to all sorts of hijinks. But here I am, having a midlife crisis twenty years early thinking, ‘Where did I go wrong?’ I answer this almost immediately by saying, ‘Birth, because you can’t exactly catch invisibleness’.