No, I did not mean “Chuck Berry.” Think about it: We were talking about dinner. Why would I be asking you to look up directions to a 1950s rock ‘n’ roll icon? That doesn’t even make sense. And no, I was not mumbling. I said it clearly. Twice.
First, patience is a slow-beating drum while The Man must deal with the fresh hair awkwardly speckling His face. Coworkers ask The Man, “Are you trying to grow a mustache?” Fellow elevator patrons judging him for neglecting hygiene. Girls that are Friends complaining. The Man’s desire to shave is pretty strong. Get out while he can. Confidence that The Beard will ever happen is incredibly low.