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“It’s gotta be a piece of lint or something,” I thought to myself as I profusely wiped my face in the office bathroom mirror. I had been drinking a lot of water yesterday and on my second trip to pee in two hours, I noticed something out of the ordinary. A bright patch in the blanket of darkness on my face. A grain of salt in a sea of pepper, as they say.
After meticulously pulling the hairs aside to make sure that this wasn’t some disgusting stray hair that my beard pulled off the floor while doing pushups at the gym, I came to the realization that this was different. This sucker was rooted in my face, right on the right side of my chin.
Euphoria isn’t quite the right word to describe what I felt. Exhilaration is closer. Look, the fact is, I don’t really have a whole lot of adult-like qualities. Yesterday, I wore converse, jeans, a Henley tee shirt, and a backward hat to work. I was basically dressed like a cool youth pastor that let the kids stay up late at church retreats, which is weird because I was, y’know, at work.
It doesn’t stop there. I would say that at first glance, 80% of the world would probably assume that I’m a liberal arts student majoring in something that allows me to design a concert venue for dogs. It’s not that I look younger than I am. Realistically, I probably look older than I am, but with my attitude and style, I look like that older guy who refused to grow up.
That changes now.
I’ve been waiting for the gray hairs to start coming in for ages. There’s so much good that comes with it. The dignity, the wisdom, the status, and that’s just the beginning. Now that my hair is starting to go gray, I’m going to be able to do things that I was never able to do before.
Before, if I went into a bar wearing jeans, converse, and a hoodie, and ordered a cheap beer, I would get laughed at. Scolded, even. “Why are you drinking that crap? We have Half Acre on tap.” It seems like I don’t know any better. Like I don’t care for myself. It seems like I’m wearing this many layers because it’s a fashion trend, not because I don’t have any winter clothes at my apartment. Toss a little bit of salt in that beard and all of a sudden, the bartender gives you a sly smile when he slides you that Miller Genuine Draft. You earned it. You put in that hard day’s work and deserve an honest drink, nothing fancy.
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what changes when your hair starts to gray, aside from the obvious. There’s an attitude that comes with it. A gleam in your eye. I’m suddenly starting to feel the urge to sit someone down and say things like, “Look, I get why you’re upset, but trust me. I’ve seen some shit, and this can be much worse.” I want to go and order a whiskey flight and be able to taste the difference between them for once. I want to go give unsolicited advice to a younger sibling and have them take it without question.
It’s my time to join the ranks of other like-bearded gentlemen in the spotlight. I’m talking about the Chris Pine’s, the Clooney’s, Ryan Reynolds’, and you know what? I’ll even add Barack Obama to the mix. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him with facial hair, but you can’t deny that dude wouldn’t look great with a little graying scruff around the edges.
Anyway, I had all of these thoughts in the moments after finding my first ever gray hair. They washed over me, warming me and cooling me, exciting and calming me all at once. I stared at myself in the mirror for I don’t even know how long, smile growing across my face. That is, until someone else waltzed into the bathroom abruptly, startling me so much that I accidentally yanked the sucker out of my face. I don’t know where I heard this from, but apparently when you yank one, six more grow back. Here’s hoping. .
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Charlie
Using sarcasm as a defense mechanism since 1993. At any given moment I'm either tired, drunk, or stressed out. Get at me at charliepgp@gmail.com or whatever.
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Need a concert venue for dogs ASAP
Based on my family, relatively early-in-life grey hair is in my future and I can’t wait
I’m right there with you, all men in my family were totally gray by 40. I’m 22 and already currently finding random stray gray hairs. Growing up is fun
I think I have 80% as many grey hairs as my dad already and I’m still a couple of years from 30. Here’s hoping I stop at a similar level and just live the salt and pepper life forever.