A lot of people have realistic fears. I think it's ok to be afraid of spiders, scorpions, snakes, dogs, even clowns. All those things have a certifiable way to hurt you (you're probably wondering about the clowns. Exhibit A: enormous shoes. they could step on you. Exhibit B: they can fit a lot into a tiny tiny car. They can be hiding anywhere). I have a ridiculous fear. Amongst my normal fears of ants, falling out of tall buildings, and sudden suffocation, I also have an intense fear of facial hair. Thankfully, we live in a time when the majority of men and women roaming the streets don't feel the need to grow a handlebar mustache or whatever. Thank goodness it's not the 1800's. I'd never escape.
But for the 4 years, I've lived in Northampton, home of possibly the largest hippie/hobo population on the east coast. The streets teem with people all claiming to be homeless. I know for a fact that some of those people are faking it. You may take this to be a harsh criticism, but it's true... in NoHo, some people panhandle for fun, just to see if they can.
But it's really difficult to walk down Main Street without seeing someone whose facial hair has gotten entirely out of control and may in fact be plotting to take over the earth. The fear I have of facial hair isn't exactly debilitating, but it affects how I see people. I stay away from folks sporting beards. Long sideburns freak me out. I will cross the street to stay away from someone with a beard down to their stomach. Mustaches will make me run the other way. So you can imagine my chagrin when a few of my friends decided that for the entirety of April, they wouldn't shave. I had hoped that once May rolled around, the nightmare would be over and things would go back to normal. Ha. When my friend decided to only shave part of the growth and turned the mess into muttonchops, I thought I would cry. But I'm getting used to it. I can eat dinner at the same table as him now.
I just can't actually look at him.
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