For some bizarre reason, whenever I audition for a play with more male roles than female roles, I am inevitably cast as a man. I'm not sure what it is about me-I would change it if I could- that makes me the opportune girl to stick in a man's role if there are no men available. All I can say is, I don't know if I can take walking out of the ladies' dressing room wearing a full beard again. On stage, it doesn't matter so much. I really don't mind, and if you give me a sword to go along with it, I'm quite happy. But I can't stand talking to people in public while wearing a beard. I'm sure you would understand this. What really takes the cake is when you pull the beard off to find you have beard lines on your face! Once after a performance, having finished taking off my beard, I realized the horrid lines on my face, which gave a perfect impression of the full beard I had just removed. After trying unsuccessfully to hide the lines with makeup, I finally decided that the best course of action was to exit the building with my purse held as closely in front of my face as possible. Little did I know there was a storm brewing outside. So there I found myself, purse crushed on face, in a t-shirt and jeans, running for dear life while being pelted with frozen raindrops. There is something irresistibly mysterious about a girl running through the freezing rain while trying desperately to cover her face, and I should have had foresight enough to plan how to avoid interested passers-by. Unfortunately I didn't. Trying to hide beard lines from someone who is offering you a jacket is a very uncomfortable position to be in. I'm pretty sure I managed to squeak out something to the effect of "Oh, no, I'm fine, actually. I'm actually fine..." while peeking out from behind my purse straps... before booking at fast as possible to my car, which was a few blocks away. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally got there, but it was a bit early for that- as it would happen, people in crosswalks are also irresistibly drawn to people who hide their faces behind the steering wheel. And from this day I discovered something that the fashion world has apparently been keeping from us: the secret to becoming immediately attractive does not necessitate tight jeans, lip liner, or loosely curled hair. All it takes is a desperate desire to not be seen by anyone you know. I think I could patent that look and make millions!
But apart from discovering a new fashion element, I also discovered that I have a new-found aversion to facial hair. While it looks very nice on some people, guys with the old soup-strainers are no longer appealing to this girl. Someone handed me a false mustache a while ago, and I began cringing in horror. Never again will I wear hair on my face, and I will think twice before dating a man with a beard.
And today I officially got short bangs, to avoid any future casting dilemmas. They're not going to cast me as a man with short bangs, by golly!
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