I posted around Christmastime that I was going to shave my beard off come January 1st. I’d sported one ever since I left the hoity-toity world of the hotel industry nearly two years ago, wherein facial hair on employees– at least in the luxury hotel tier where I once toiled– was not only frowned upon but was downright prohibited. (Only a select few were allowed and only for “medical reasons.” Say it with me, “Huh?”) Well, I did shave it off on New Year’s Day morn, and actually felt good about it.
That was until I went back to work on the 2nd, where I heard plenty of “Oh, you look different.” especially from the females, to whom I felt the phrase was actually code for “You looked better with a beard.” I also had a poodle-haired co-worker comment: “What, did you want to look like a 12-year-old or something?” Prior to growing a beard, I’d always been told that I looked younger than I am. (Actually, I still got that comment even with the beard, but the age they threw at me was 3 to 5 years older than what people mistook it before to be.)
Anyway, my “baby face” lasted only until my ski trip at the end of February when I let my facial follicles grow rampant again that, when I returned to work from that trip, I got some compliments for it. “Oh, yeah, he’s rockin’ the beard again!” the same increasingly creepy poodle-haired co-worker bellowed one morning to me. And, it got me to thinking that, when I was beardless, did I look just absolutely hideous?
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