He had vaguely brown hair that was light in the summer and rather much darker in the winter, eyes that tended towards blue, and he stood six foot four when he wasn’t slouching. His face was almost angelically perfect, with no distinguishing features, outmoded beauty marks, or a weak or strong chin. Much to his continuous dismay, David was completely forgettable. In any survey, he was found in the middle; in any competition, he generally took third place-but only if there were six competitors. Occasionally, in the same situation he might take fourth.
If you were to boil down the whole of humanity—a delightful enough notion on its own—something very much like David could probably be grown from the blackened mass you might have left. He was the homunculus of mankind.
David was so average that he was, in fact, unique.
All that is totally untrue--I'm hardly unique.
I am pilloried, bilious, and to blame.