Three Easy Pieces

Once every few months, I stop shaving my "beard" and "mustache" for a few weeks to see what the overall effect is. The last few times, I had to shave the mustache after ten days because it was sparser than a seventh grader's. This time was no exception, the mustache went after ten days. I think this time, in stark contrast, no one even notices the beard. Might as well be dirt on my chin.

Thankfully, I finally look like I'm in my twenties. Still frustrates me that I look so young. When I showed someone my passport for identity verification purposes, she looked at the passport (picture taken when I was nineteen), looked at me, looked back at the passport, and said "Wow, you've got a real babyface." Thin beardlet and all. She told me I'll appreciate it later, but I fear that I'll just wake up one day looking old, without any subtle transition. Plus, does looking like a kid help? I've gotten so many "are you legal" jokes that this would only help me if I was trying to pick up teenage girls. They are looking for older men anyway, so.

***

My mother tends to worry after me, because I am her only child. I guess some people would describe it as sweet that I'm still her little boy. I think she gets carried away with it.

If you look at pictures of me during college and L-school, I'm not unrecognizable, but I've definitely got a few pounds hanging on my face. The so-called baby fat plumping me out. After L-school, I ate healthier and started running. Again, I'm not that drastically different, but I did lose a lot of the baby fat, and somehow came out looking even younger.

It was also a drastic enough difference that my mom always asked me if I was eating. I thought only Jewish mothers did that. (Disclaimer: My cousin A.L. did marry a Jewish woman, so I am technically Jewish via marriage.) At any rate, no matter how I explain it to her, she does not believe that I am eating healthy and running.

It came out a few weeks ago that she thought I was sick. I laughed at this. How could I be sick for months on end without seeing a doctor? Then she explained that she thought I had the sickness "where you throw up after putting your finger in your mouth." Anorexia? "Yes, that's it."

My mom thought I was an anorexic for almost six months. I am the daughter she never had. (Disclaimer: I am male, I think.)

***

We have a mandatory one hour break during the infamous Thursday all-day meeting. Last Thursday, I decided to break bread with W.J. I figured since everyone else in the office had either eaten or made other plans, this would be a good time to get to know W.J. better.

When we got to the ground floor, there was a brunette walking in front of us, dresses in a black and white leopard print dress, and boots up to midcalf. Oh my.

She happened to be leaving towards the parking garage, and we were leaving through the same exit. I couldn't help but stare. Really, if you're dressing like that, you can't get mad if people stare and gawk. Well, you can, but that's somewhat hypocritical.

W.J. asked me a question about the food, and my response was "Yeah, it's not bad." she turned her head back over her shoulder and smiled at me, those dark brown eyes twinkling. Damned if she wasn't the most attractive thing I'd seen that day, not so hard when you're in a meeting with a room full of guys. Nonetheless, even in a room full of women (such as English 301), she would have given them a run for their money. Since she was walking towards a glass partition to get to the elevator, I thought she caught me looking, so all I could do was smile back at her.

I turned to W.J., clapped my hand over my eyes, and said "Wow, she caught me staring." He said, "No, man, she heard you say, 'Yeah, she's not bad.'" Whoops.