Listen, I understand the appeal. It’s like watching a Chia pet grow in front of your very eyes. or maybe it’s more like the Play-Doh barber shop where you press down on the pedal and the person in the barber chair grows all this Play-Doh hair that you can cut with your toy scissors?
Whichever analogy you go with is fine by me, but rest assured, I am not a Chia pet, nor am I part of a Play-Doh playset, so when everybody goes “aww, are you trying to grow a beard?” it just comes off as a little condescending.
I know I’ve still got some work to do, but every quarter-inch is progress, right?
But the ones that coo over my every attempt to prove my virility as a male by growing a bushy beard aren’t even the worst.
It’s the ones who come up to me, out of nowhere, and ask if they can touch it. Now I know this area is ripe for sexual innuendos and double entendres, but let’s steer right past those and focus on how weird it is to ask if you can touch a strangers face.
You don’t know me. I could be a homicidal maniac in training and this could be the thing that makes me snap. Or i could have herpes and let you touch my face in hopes that you contract it.
Okay, never of these are true, but still… it’s weird.
So please control your love of facial hair or your unbridled passion for my rugged manliness and just leave me and my bearded face alone.