When I got home from work last night, I had had enough. The beard was coming off. I’ve had a beard since late November and, while I always enjoy the bearded months, they must always come to an end. It has started to seem more spring-like in Atlanta recently, so I figured the winter beard was not long for this world. Last night it was time.
The wife was out running errands, so I put the trash can in the sink in the bathroom and started trimming. It took a while, but alas I was triumphant. It felt really good to have nothing on my chin and especially good to no longer have the mustache (staches always bug me the most about having a beard).
As I took the dogs for a walk with my newly liberated face, it felt cooler than usual–no more insulating hair to keep my chin toasty warm. When I caught a glimpse of myself in car windows, I had to do a double take. My chin looked pointier and my face too white.
The wife got home and started telling me about her day. We were talking for about 10 minutes when I finally blurted out, “didn’t you notice I shaved?” She freaked out; “oh my god, no, I didn’t!” This happened last time I had a beard. It’s weird how people who are closest to you don’t seem to notice sudden changes in hairstyles or facial hair. I hadn’t noticed her hair had been chopped off by half about 2 months ago either.
We went out to have dinner with my mom and then to see my sister at the coffee house she works at. Neither of them noticed my smooth face until I pointed it out.
As I walked into work this morning everyone freaked out when they saw me. They must not know me that well. Everyone instantly noticed.
Mountain man is no more.
As I re-read this entry, I realized it could be summed up in 5 words:
Man shaves beard, looks different.