Which is different from the life of a bearded woman, which I have also been called.
Well, not “a”, but “this”. I have been scratching the hell out of this rat growing on my face and I feel that the rest of the jawonthefloor community deserves to know.
Now I could make the obvious joke here and wish some of you a happy belated Shana Tovah Kippur Mazel Matzos, but that would be offensive.
However, I was recently accosted.
The Americans appeared to have got wind (feel free to laugh at that) of my appearance and I was detained for a cavity search. The fact that I was going for a cavity search in the first place is irrelevant. It’s as irrelevant as the third Jonas brother who was also at the same detention facility. It’s as irrelevant as the second page of Google, which is where you will find my mug shot and my naked protest after I was detained. The fact that I was naked already is irrelevant. It’s as irrelevant as…. Well, you get my point.
I left there feeling delightfully violated and ready to take on the day. Then a hipster grabbed me and dragged me away. I was so confused and amused. He was skinny, wore skinny jeans so tight he was penguin-waggling walking and …surprise surprise, he had a big ol’ beard, which was not skinny.
He pushed me into this café and we sat down and spoke about indie music and philosophy or something. Photos were taken on Instagram and other hipster joke scenarios were acted out before I got so incensed that I nearly pulled my beard out.
Just when I thought it was safe to come out, as I stumbled out, I typed started typing the word on my phone for advice as to how to overcome this obstacle in my life (I had tried calling on Jesus earlier that day, but in the bearded community we have something known as beard envy and he hasn’t trimmed his in over 2,000 years. Not looking so good, JC) but I only got as far as “bear” when I realised that it was in fact Grindr and not Google (at this point feel free to use Google to search ‘Grindr’ and then feel free to not use Grindr. You’re welcome)
This opened up a veritable Peter’s Box of activity as I became the hot commodity on the block. How upset people were they when they discovered that the only type of bear I was was the Wandering Somalian Bear known as Skinnybitchilus Bloggercetus. It’s the scientific name.
So as if being confused for a terrorist, hipster and then a hairy homosexual male were not enough, I saw my barber. He was not impressed. I have not fought off a man with a pair of scissors like that since my audition for Edward Scissorhands in Johnny Depp’s apartment in the 90’s (this is completely plausible because the beard makes me appear younger than I really am and he was also a member of the Beard Brigade for a bit).
So where to from here, I thought to myself as I ran my hand through my hair, then down to my beard then over my chest hair for good measure? Up and up, Floor Jawers. Or down and outwards, if that’s how yours grows. I’m a down pointer myself. If we stick together, we can defeat the smoothies. Down with razors!!
<p>Author <a href=”https://plus.google.com/102128103971030481396” target=”blank” rel=”author”>Jerome Cornelius</a></p>