Mouthing off

Mouthing off

Have you ever wondered what’s going on with the face? Not really the face, but more so the mouth. Since Covid pretty much forced everyone to learn how to have meetings and visit each other on Zoom, I have noticed there are a lot of people out there with mouth twitches and contortions.

It’s my first Zoom call of the day—20 little floating heads staring back at me like some weird corporate reality show. In the bottom right, my colleague is making this rapid side-to-side twitching motion, and I’m thinking, “Ah, yes… clearly a distant relative of Samantha Stevens from Bewitched.” If she twitches any harder, her nose might break the sound barrier, and suddenly the whole team will be magically transformed into Labradoodles.

Top left? Oh, that’s the “lip licker.” Slowly dragging their tongue across their bottom lip like they’re auditioning for Fifty Shades of Grey: The Conference Call Edition. Front and center is the “lip biter,” which would be sultry if it weren’t 8:15 in the morning and we were talking about spreadsheet formatting. And then there’s the sleeper: sitting there with their mouth open so wide you could parallel park a Smart Car in it. At this point, I’m tempted to send them a fly swatter just to prepare for the inevitable.

Meanwhile, it hits me… what the heck am I doing with my mouth on these calls? I think I’m smiling, but for all I know, I’m over here making faces like a toddler trying to whistle through a kazoo. Next meeting, I’m watching myself—because the only magic trick I want to pull is keeping my dignity.