A MAN'S BEDTIME STORY

(Written in jest for the wonderful men in our lives)

I am a survivor - a tenacious chin hair! 

I pride myself in my stability; my rootedness. Therein lays my real strength. I discovered, a while back, that it is my very static nature that I achieve this strength. But I operate in a very precarious environment where we all receive daily scrutiny.

 

There are many like me.  We gather together in harmony, surging forth, fighting the good fight. Each morning, we edge over our work stations and watch the Boss. Like fervent Meerkats emerging from their burrows to assess their day. Our goal is to taunt our wary Master – to render him scratching in the late afternoon.  It’s true, we all live in mirth. Together.

By some stroke of luck, two of us survived the last cut some days ago. We stood up in delight. The other hairs weren’t so lucky.  They got their dressing down.  I remained unscathed.  The Boss was distracted, didn’t notice me.  This made it easier for me to find my foundation and focus on growth. This morning I peeped up even higher over my work station, somewhat sideways.

Since then, I have managed to breathe a bit more easily. But I watch, I wait and I’m hopeful that it will remain that way. These are uncertain times and we all live in the awkwardness of short-lived freedom. 

The good news is that there is one other like me. I am not alone in going unnoticed. My colleague – “Nozzie” (Short for Nostril hair) - sprouts proudly in a corner not far from where I am rooted. He sits taller and higher than me. Both of us assess one another regularly. It’s a bit of a competition.

 

There are times where Nozzie and I are granted furlough. This is when we sit with the boss, in the sun and take up its warmth. It a proud time.  We almost shine.  We get to know ourselves. We’re taller, shinier and prouder.  After all, looks count. But we do spare a thought for our colleagues. They can hardly look at us from their cubicles. Oh well, that’s business. 

But we also have to be on the lookout while we’re out sitting in the sun – to avoid the Boss’s wife’s eagle eyes. She notices everything and would demand immediate culling.  After all, she is the shareholder. There have been moments when she has pointed us out and brought us into the Boss’s focus. It can be scary stuff.

I’m under no illusion that my career is limited on this chin. Nozzie is even more aware of his demise. His position is far more precarious than mine – he’s a nose hair and can become irritating. He lives his life ‘under cover’ – the Boss can almost smell him. Will he be plucked?  Only tomorrow will tell…

You see, Nozzie, me and the others are part of a team called, ‘The 5 o’clock shadow’.  We’re a strong bunch. We’ve stuck together since the Boss was a teenager; sporting bad breath and covered with acne. Since then, we’ve all had to face him and ourselves in the mirror each morning.  The Boss is the ultimate decider. We either flourish or become trimmed.

This morning, I watch as the Boss reaches for his razor. Will I get the cut or not?  We all hold our breath… Waiting.  I see Nozzie cringing. The Boss has paused… He stares at Nozzie in the mirror while his wife points at me too. Now he’s fiddling with Nozzie’s sturdy girth. I hold my breath…

“NOOOOO!”

The Boss lifts up the noisy, buzzing electric trimmer and edges closer. ….and closer…and closer… 

This time it’s a meticulous effort. Today, we start our taunting all over again.