Since it's been winter for a few months now, I've been growing my annual winter beard. This, coupled with the fact that I shave my head makes me look like Rasputin, Captain Spaulding, or Shel Silverstien.
What I don't understand is why complete strangers feel the need to ask me about my version of hirsuteness.
For example, at work my customers frequently ask me why I shave my head and not my face. Since I'm at work I can't say "Piss off! Nunya bizness!" so what I say is a self-depricating "Well, as you can see, I have encroaching male-pattern baldness so I shave my head to avoid the temptation to attempt some spectacular version of a comb-over. And I grow the beard because I need somewhere to keep my tick collection."
I said this to a lady who was maybe 65 years old, and she just frowned and walked away.
Mission accomplished.
I didn't feel the need to ask her why he had a severely outdated blue beehive hairdo, so why is she asking me about my 'do?
Why don't people mind their own business?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Shel Silverstein. Sweet.
When my mom was working on her third divorce my sister and I called her husband El Swoopay! He was a red headed bastard step child from Texas with "thinning" hair and a beard. We always figured he could grow the beard ZZ Top style then wrap it up around his head to avoid the Donald Trump look....just another option.
Post a Comment