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If he hadn't touched my croissant, I might have felt badly for his loss but in all honesty, I had no idea that men were so sensitive or attached to their facial hair. Do they see a beard as a security blanket, a pet, a dependent for a tax deduction? And years ago when a good friend of mine shaved his soul patch after I jokingly commented that it had no rhythm; did I unleash, perhaps, the first of my seemingly bad hair karma episodes?
"I'm sorry," I grinned, "but I agree with Ng, you look really great without a beard."
"Thank you," he smiled, "but next time, you shouldn't be so glib when attacking someone's beard."
I looked around my shoulder to see if Ashton Kutcher was hunkering behind the tangle of hormonal ivy. Attacking? He made it sound as if I had to defend myself against a rabid raccoon. Obviously, Ol had shaved off a goodly portion of his sense of humor when the whiskers dropped to the bathroom floor.
I congratulated him on his successful art show and thanked her for the croissants.
After they left I realized just how vast the planetary divide was amongst Martians and Venusians, feeling a bit sad that my old perspective of Big Benders and Sweet Lippers was seen through a very small and innocent lens.
Even more upsetting, though, was as I sat solo at the wrought iron table beneath the giant rubber tree, serenaded by the fountains' regurgitating fish mouth and a lone mourning dove, I was left with only half of a chocolate plumped croissant and nary a handful of crumbs.
I looked up at the mourning dove but it flushed from the tree leaving a splat of an exclamation mark on the table, barely missing what remained of my sweet. I knew this was a sign, of what I was unsure, but nervously felt my chin to see if my fate might be with the circus.
A bearded lady or bearded woman is a woman who has a visible beard. These women have long been a phenomenon of legend, curiosity, ridicule.
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