“So when are you going to grow a beard?” said a drunk bearded man at a party. No really even his beard was drunk!
“Oh I tried last week,” I ventured.
“Tried? What’s to try? Beards are clearly the way forward.”
“I can’t grow one. It just doesn’t work for me. You remember the other week when my father had his wisdom tooth out?”
“No?”
“Well he did.”
“Was it painful?”
“Yes.”
“Oh dear.”
“Right. So he couldn’t shave because of the pressing on the mouth area would have hurt him.”
“That makes sense.”
“So. In solidarity with him I stopped shaving too. On the last day I was still visiting with him he had a full beard. And he said to me ‘so did you not shave today?'”
“And?”
“Well, I hadn’t shaved in a week and it only looked to him like one day’s growth.”
“Ah.”
“Exactly.”
“So don’t grow a beard then.”
“I won’t.” I sat back thinking that the conversation might have come to an end. But then suddenly he started talking again.
“Have you ever thought about a moustache?”
