Shave Night

My journey to awesomeness began today.


Tonight, the men from Mustaches 4 Kids descended on the 94/95 Sports Bar to shave for the last time in a month, get our hairless mug shots taken, and begin the process of becoming stunning.

I started recruiting other “growers” as soon as I heard about M4K.  After making my first round of phone calls I had four other guys fired up and ready to go.  Slowly but surely all but one chickened out. 


The first, we’ll call him Mark to protect his identity, claimed he had a conference to go to in June and was afraid of going with a stache.    What a fool.  If there was ever a great way to make friends and influence people, it is by having a mustache.  And what better venue could there be than a conference to show off your studliness and use it to scratch up some new business.  I mean, who can resist buying something from a guy with a killer stache?  And don’t even get me started about meeting girls at a conference with a stache…. Idiot.


The second, Nate will be his pseudonym, claimed he had never actually agreed to grow.  I call shenanigans.  We all know what really happened.  His wife laid down the law and threatened to cut him off if he grew a rockin’ stache.  I’m sure she told him it was because she didn’t like them, but like all women she didn’t want her man growing a stache because it will make him irresistible to the opposite sex, and she was just afraid of the competition.  Well, Nate wasn’t bright enough to see through her ruse, so he ejected as well.


Lastly, Eric (he gets no naming protection because his excuse is weakest) begged out because he is just too fat and lazy to actually try raising some money to help out some kids.  Pathetic.  He is so coughing up some serious cash to sponsor my stache.


But one stood tall.  Casey stepped up, was a man, and said he had the cojones to grow.  So, together we went to the bar, lined up to shave…  oh wait… bought a beer, lined up to shave, befouled our lips by removing any last vestige of  upper lip hair, got our… wait… bought another beer… got our clean shave pictures taken, and got another beer into which we promptly cried.

After enjoying time among such manly men, we decided it was time to go heckle the non-growers a bit, so we ventured to a buddy’s bar to meet Nate.  We mercilessly taunted his unwillingness to be awesome and in an attempt to make us forget is weakness, he bought us a beer.  But before the night was over Nate’s lack of testosterone kicked in and he went home leaving Casey and I to seek another place to flex our mustache might.


So, karaoke it was.  We busted out with a rousing duet of If I Had a Million Dollars with lyrics improvised to extol the virtues of the mustache.    We were a huge success, and even with hairless lips our talk of mustaches made us the toast of the room. 


Growing a mustache is going to rock.