The woman at Starbucks said the nicest thing to me. She greeted me by name, said she had missed me (Like, I wasn't in yesterday because I was sleeping at home, or Friday because I had to high-tail it to Philly to meet up with the Baron, but I'm there every week day otherwise). Then she said, "I thought of you because a friend of mine just grew a moustache. It looks really good on him, but it's not as awesome as yours."
Awwww...
Pause for reflection. Moustaches are like dogs, huh? You don't find the dog; the dog finds you. Similarly, when I grew this, it was like it had been waiting patiently for me to unleash it all my life. Although I guess technically it wouldn't have been possible until my late twenties.
But I grew it, and looked in the mirror, and I thought, "Oh. Right. This is what I look like."
I am the man with the stache.
Cool.
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