Shedding the Stache

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Movember 2011 is winding down and so is my fun pretending to be a moustache man.

I am reaching the point where I have to part with the moustache and it’s a little harder than I thought it would be. It’s become a part of me and a part of my face. Why don’t I just keep it? It has to go in true Movember fashion. I’ve raised awareness and eyebrows but shaving it is apart of the rules of the month long campaign.

To alleviate the stress of parting with the stache, I have decided to go in stages. What was once a sweet handle bar moustache, has to first be transformed into the classic moustache. One month of work…literally down the drain. I needed a few beers to loosen me up a little then out came the razor. Then after realizing the razor would not be able to penetrate the hair fortress I built, I grabbed the clippers. What followed was a rollercoaster ride of emotions.

The sounds that came out of my bathroom as I trimmed down the stache was along the lines of a clogged gas leaf blower struggling to clear itself with whimpers only audible in the bursts they escaped me.

The trembling trimmer came up to my face and the reality of what was about to happen became palpable as the first few hairs hit the sink. I knew I was knee deep and then went for it. A full swipe up on one of the hair bars. It took about 15 swipes of my trimmer before a noticeable change was seen.

Half way there. I was committed to the whole removal process. After another 15 swipes, my handle bar moustache was no more. I was left with the classic. And not to say the handlebars were bad, but I was much more happy with this look. Something to look out for next year perhaps.

One more day of food and ladies stuck in my moustache. And what a ride it has been. My upper lip will be revealed in a matter of hours. There will no doubt be tears when that time comes. Stand by…