Day 20

It's mustache month. And I have worn a mustache for the last 20 days.

The others who wanted to partake in this endeavor wimped out from the get-go, so I have gone it alone.

I have gotten many strange looks and heard many varying comments.

"You look like a 70s porn star."
"You don't look a sleazy as I would have expected."
"'My Name Is Earl'? Should be 'My Name Is Dave'."
"That's pretty hot."
"That's pretty gross."
"What is up with the mustache?"
"When are you gonna shave that thing off?"
"You've got a catapillar on your lip."
"Why do you have a mustache?"
"Your mustache is red? Why is it red?"
"Is this some kind of bet?"
"Did you have to register that thing with a Sex Offenders Website?"
"Seriously, what is up with the mustache?!"

I went to lunch last week with a friend and made no mention of the fact that I had a mustache for most of the time. I noticed she kept looking at it inquisitively, as if it might suddenly reveal its reason for being.

Halfway through our meal I said, "So I grew this mustache as part of a deal I had made with some guys at work."

She breathed a sigh of relief, "I was wondering what was going on! People just don't grow mustaches these days because they like them."

I then explained that everyone else chickened out, but that I am determined to stick it out, regardless. Because I am committed. Committed to the 'stache!

And I've grown rather fond of it over the last several weeks.

I've definitely gotten more looks from women on the street. Granted, they are mostly looks of disgust, but even a look of complete bewilderment and nausea is better than not being noticed at all.


*(There are pictures to post, whenever I am able to get some sort of internet service at home. Hopefully in a week or two. Be forewarned...)