“You remind me of someone with that moustache,” a girl at work told me this week. “Someone from a movie or something.” She continued to stare at me for a few uncomfortable moments more before her face lit up. “I’ve got it! You know that television series Magnum?”
She thinks I look like Tom Sellick! I thought to myself. I many never shave my upper lip again.
The facial hair is progressing nicely and I’m keen to start sculpting it into the Batstache I know is in me. I was planning on refining it into shape this week but there was a bit of a misunderstanding at home.
“We’re booked in for family photos tomorrow,” Tracey told me on Friday.
“I know,” I assured her. Being so good at taking pictures you can make a living from it is great, except that you’re always behind the camera. So we asked a wonderful photographer friend from the Sunshine Coast, Sonnie Mather, to put us all in the frame.
“So you need to have a shave.”
“What do you mean, can’t?”
“Can’t. I’ve agreed to do this for the month. I’m raising money. People are paying.”
“Oh, crap,” said Tracey.
“You still keen to have a nice family photo on the wall?” I asked her.
“We can always just have one with the kids,” said Tracey.
“No way. If I’m in it at least we’ll always chuckle when we look at it.” From the look on her face, I’m not so sure ‘chuckle’ was the right word. “Maybe I should sculpt it tonight. You could be standing alongside Bruce Wayne.”
“Bruce Lame, more like,” she mumbled.
I took that to mean no.
Meanwhile, it might not surprise anyone to learn Tracey is firmly sticking to her guns about the lack of action while I’m sporting top lip facial hair and ‘mo means no’ has sadly entered our vernacular. Oh, how I suffer for this cause.
But at least, according to the girl at work, I’m looking hot.
“So you think I look like Tom Sellick?” I asked her. “I can see that.”
“Tom Sellick?” she chuckled uncharitably. “No.”
“But…well, you said…you know…Magnum?…” I trailed off miserably.
“Not Tom Sellick,” she scoffed. “The other one from Magnum.”
What other one…?
“Higgins?” I suggested.
“Yeah, the old bloke. Higgins,” she grinned cruelly.
I suspect the Batstache will bring a little street cred back.
But by the end of the month, if the best I can do is Higgins, this thing is definitely goneskies.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs”