The decision to shave my beard (it hasn't happened as of press time by the way, so don't believe it until you see it) has come after careful introspection. The following reasons are evidence that it is time for a razor.
- There's always hair in your food. When you go to pull it out it's always attached to your face. It's a no-win situation. First there's hair in your food which no one enjoys except the shower drain named Gonzo. Then, when you go to remove the hair, it's as if someone were yanking on your face. It happens all the time.
- There's always food in your hair. It's nearly impossible to eat pizza without at least one pepperoni getting caught in your chin hair. To make matters worse, you have no idea that there's food down there. I started wearing a hairnet on my chin which also didn't help until I attached some micro mirrors onto the hairnet that allow me to see what's going on immediately below my lips. One time I wiped my lips and an entire cream cheesed bagel fell off my face. Who knows how long it had been there!
- When you take a nap on a park bench at 3am and you've forgotten your coat, people immediately assume you're homeless. Um, hello people, just because I got locked out and have a beard it doesn't mean I don't have a job. Goodness gracious, I never knew the assumptions people make about bearded men.
- Beards require upkeep. They need to be washed, conditioned, fluffed, blow dried, trimmed, occasionally mowed, and always treated with respect. If my fingernail lengths are any indicator, I've been spending too much time on my facial hair and not enough on the rest of me. It's time to even things out.
- Beards are highly flammable. I tend to do a lot of candle sniffing, especially around the holidays. I cannot tell you how many times I bent down to get a whiff of something delicious only to find that my face was on fire. Imagine wrapping your chin in straw dipped in gasoline and you can imagine having a beard.
- At the other end of the spectrum is icicles. Any time I fell while skiing I ended up with a little snowman keeping my cheeks rosy. When I'd come in at lunch all I needed to do was lick my chops and my thirst was quenched.
It's like you can never win with a beard. Either it's got food in it, or it's in the food. Either you let it go mangy and people think you're homeless, or you pay so much attention to it that you start neglecting regular activities like buying new contacts. Either it's on fire, or it's got icicles in it. It's basically a full time job keeping the hair out of the food and the food out of the hair. It's almost more than I can take.
The decision to shave, or at least trim back, my facial hair came after this realization: Beards generally impress men, not women. Sure they're manly, but so are chainsaws and I've never seen a woman go for a man with a chainsaw. I've asserted my manliness to enough dudes and now it's time to go back to my sweet side and see what I can do about the lady situation.