Facial hair challenge

Now seems as good a time as any to mention our special facial hair challenge. You know the drill: backpacker goes to Europe, backpacker doesn’t shave for weeks, backpacker returns with a deep tan and a beard that would make Abe Lincoln green with envy. (“No, I didn’t say Abe Lincoln, I said ‘Hey, Blinkin’!”)

However, both me and Chotchsky are, comment se dit, follicularly challenged of the face. We dared each other to stop shaving and, within two weeks, we looked like 15-year-olds who haven’t received their first Mach 3 in the mail yet.

Chotchsky looked like a second-rate Spanish conquistador: a wispy mustache and a sad excuse for a goatee, with absolutely no connection in between and nothing in the cheeks or sideburns area. Eventually, I allowed him to shave the lip curtain, leaving him with just the goatee for the rest of the trip. I am a merciful overlord.

I fared slightly better, but not by much. The sideburns grew in nicely, as did the goatee and mustache, but the cheek area was weak. After a few days I looked like I had glued clumps of pubes onto my lower jaw. Through subtle shaving and the encouragement of Chotchsky, by the time we left the Greek islands I was sporting an unmistakable chinstrap, paying homage to our frat brother Allegro who was in turn paying homage to ‘N Sync’s Joey Fatone.

I still haven’t determined whether Chotchsky really thinks the chinstrap is the best I can do under the circumstances or, more likely, he just wants me to look like an asshole for as long as possible.