It all started with a comment from a friend, Teresa, as we and some other friends sat at Bistro Roxy one night.
"I think you'd look good with facial hair, Jimmy," she said. "Like, you oughta grow a mustache and a goatee or something."
"Um, OK," I said.
Because I was feeling impulsive and typically goofy, I decided to see if she would be right. Well, it's been just a little more than two weeks since I stopped shaving those parts of my face, and the jury's still out.
I know right now you are looking at my mug shot and thinking: "Good lord, Jimmy is already a stunningly gorgeous amalgam of manhood. Why would he alter anything, including growing facial hair to cover up some of that beautiful face?" Now I am sure you're hooting with laughter and rolling around on the floor because you are a sarcastic dweeb.
But that's besides the point, which is: Growing facial hair for the first time can be a deeply interesting experience. I have learned several lessons which I will now share with you, for two reasons: First, I feel it will be an interesting and entertaining learning experience for you, and second, I have 580 more words worth of space that I need to fill up:
1. Eating messy foods when you have facial hair can be a nerve-wracking experience. I had a croissant sandwich the other day at TGI Fridays'. Between the mayonnaise, the mustard, the tomato and the croissant flakes, this was a sandwich teeming with stuff that just loves to leap into facial hair and never come out. I wiped my mouth something like 26 times during the course of my meal, and was about to snap and stab some overly perky waiter with his "flair" pins by the time I was done. You see, I am developing some sort of idiotic fear that I am carrying around enough leftover food in my mustache to feed Somalia. This thought upsets me greatly, and I am always asking friends if I have anything stuck in it. They always say no, but I sense they are lying to me and snickering to each other as I walk around in public with something blatantly obvious, like a pickle, stuck on my face.
2. Facial hair feels funny. I was recently walking outside during what was a calm day, when all of sudden the wind came up. The air crossed my face, and it felt as if someone was giving me a series of little electrical shocks. It was trippy, in an uncomfortable yet strangely festive sort of way. I am also learning not to bite my lower lip anymore, because it feels like I am biting into an otter when I do.
3. Facial hair doesn't always grow in the same color. I am a blond-haired dude, but this mustache-goatee of mine isn't. Well, there is a little blond mixed in -- along with some red, some black, some brown and -- this is not something a 26-year-old wants to admit -- some gray and some white. In particular, I have a small, linear patch of white on the bottom of my mustache on the right side of my face. It looks like I have some sour cream (or another white substance that is more alarming) stuck there, as if I was trying out for a milk ad and they missed a spot while they were cleaning off my face.
4. Facial hair can scare the heck out of you. Every time I walk by a mirror and glance over at myself, I jump up in the air about 7 feet high because THERE IS SOMETHING ON MY FACE, like some sort of out-of-control form of mold. After I return to the planet's surface and do a double-take, I realize that it is just my facial hair, and I feel like a royal dork. This has happened to me about 29 times in the last week, and you would think I would start getting used to it. Nope.
But despite all these trials and tribulations, the facial hair is going to stay on for at least a little while longer, until that jury comes back and gives its verdict. If people, most importantly myself, decide that it looks like a dead muskrat stapled to my face, I'll shave it off. But if the consensus is that it looks good, I may keep it for a while.
That is, if I can figure out some way to get rid of that damn white patch.
Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who is happy that he doesn't have to shave for as long in the mornings these days. His column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.