Of Beards and Evolution

New Self-Imposed Rule:

I'm going to start calling shenanigans on myself every time I start talking about growing out a beard. It's happened once and to make it happen I had to a) go to China, b) not care about who saw me, c) leave my razor in my Nanjing apartment while I went out on a 3-week vacation to Not-Nanjing, and d) be too cheap and terrified of Chinese razors to buy a new one. At this stage in the game, save for being in a coma or being captured by the North Koreans and imprisoned like James Bond in Die Another Day, I just don't have it in me to grow this damn thing out.




The truth of the matter is that I remain absolutely convinced that I would not only have The Best Beard in the History of Beards (TBBITHOB), but I would also look equal parts charming, fiercely intelligent, and handsome. I am convinced that women would be breaking down my door for some awesome making out followed by my reading her Neruda. However, in order to get to TBBITHOB I need the damn thing to grow out and that involves a ridiculous amount of itchy-face-syndrome (real thing, trust me, I'm a doctor*). On top of the itchy-face-syndrome, there's the fact that my facial hair doesn't grow out, as some would say, in a uniform fashion.

No, my facial hair likes to take a Darwinian approach to growing out a beard.

It grows in small patches and then the strong patches overtake the weaker patches. Do you remember those videos in science class about bacteria multiplication? Pretty much what my face would look like if you fast-forward through three-weeks. (Ladies! call me!) So while at the end of the three-week period I can be confident that the facial hair that is on my face is by far the strongest and most luxurious facial hair that my body can produce, the developmental period has me looking like a patchy burn victim. On top of that, I think I can confidently say that there are about five stages to growing out a beard. People look at me and think:

1. Days 1-3: He’s too hungover/lazy to shave
2. Days 4-6: Interesting/Attractive Scruff
3. Days 7-12: Pedophile
4. Days 13-20: Homeless Pedophile
5. Day 21: AWESOME BEARD!!!

I'm sick and tired of having an itchy face, having mothers pick up their children and run away from me when I'm walking down the street, and having homeless people try to give me money when I'm waiting for someone outside a building.

I don't have the fortitude to go through the first four stages, I just don't. From here on in, my face will be smooth, non-itchy, and I'll finally have mothers stop calling the police on me.

*Not really a doctor in any way...unless you consider my imaginary PhD in Sweet, Sweet Loving.

In Which Voldemort Steals A Car

Working at the DA's office has its advantages.

Like the time I got pulled over for speeding and then informed the cop that I was the "law" part of the L&O team? As soon as the officer saw my badge which read "Intern", he looked at me incredulously, shook his head while laughing, and then started writing out my ticket. In my own way, I believe I won the day - I made the police officer laugh and I got to pay the Commonwealth $150. Everyone won.

Let's also not forget the attractive defendants we've come across: the 22 year-old with 2 kids (eldest was 5) with 2 different fathers or the 25 year-old who asked if she should go to WalMart to buy "nice" jeans for trial. Who needs match.com when I've got my veritable smorgasbord of willing, able, and easy women at my disposal? I could take them out to TGIFridays and it'd be the best culinary experience they've ever had. "I need to meet the chef that created this delicious meal!"

Women and opportunities for police officers to disrespect me notwithstanding, yesterday I came across the best thing about working at the DA's office: One Defendant, One Crime, One of humanity's best literary works (fuck you, Shakespeare).



We've got a defendant that goes by the name of Tom Riddle. That's right, the villain of the Harry Potter series has been charged by my state of having stolen a car. I'm going to have to actively restrain myself from mentioning his educational background (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry), his foreign language experience (parselmouth), and his prior bad acts (Murder 1 of Harry Potter's parents and attempted murder of one Mr. Harry Potter). And...AND, I'll get to say "this is a job for the DA!" and the jury members will chuckle to my obvious reference to Dumbledore's Army.

I spent all day yesterday dreaming of the possibility of saying, "Your Honor, the People call He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to the stand."

And my closing argument? "Members of the jury, even though Lord Voldemort is an all-powerful wizard, he still can't steal a car in Pennsylvania."

Upon spending many a minute discussing the endless nerdgastic possibilities of littering the trial and response briefs with Harry Potter references to the senior attorney, he looked at me and asked:

"You're single, aren't you?"

I looked at him for a moment and then said, "Well, I'm not really sure what that has to do with anything."