“It’s so hot the sun will cook our faces off,” a man says while we wait for the crosswalk signal to change.
He tells me he “wishes” he could grow a beard like mine.
“My beard is solid,” he says. “Not like yours, though. But in this heat…”
“Brutal,” I say.
“Yes. Brutal. I’m going to trim mine tomorrow.”
“Yeah, now that it’s summer I’m thinking the same thing.”
His smile turns serious.
“No,” he says. “I would not do that if I were you. It is a man’s beard.”
Then he shakes my hand, tells me his name is Eddy, and rounds the corner.
Beard envy is real, guys. And usually it’s real weird.