Classic Devans

As my friend Chris pointed out, my website URL makes my name look like Ted Devans. Thus, whenever anything ridiculously funny or intensely awkward happens to me, according to him, it can only be described as Classic Devans. I hope to impart some of that shit that happens here.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

I swear I'm 23.

I recently got rid of a particularly awful Amish looking beard I grew because I wanted to see what I could do in the realm of facial hair. It was reddish (apparently I am pretty Irish), scraggly, and pretty gross looking. See right, a picture of me in full makeup for my ensemble part in Sweeney Todd that I just finished with the Actors Theatre Company right before coming to Wisconsin.

When I grew the damn thing, I knew I had to ignore any insults thrown my way, which were inevitable. Some particularly good ones came from my friend Tom. Such as "Does Matthew McConaughey know you're growing his knuckle hair for him?" or "David Spade wants his pubes back". But I knew that I had to push onwards to beard perdition. By the end of two months, after getting rid of a really pathetic looking mustache and cheek area, I had what several recognized as a full Amish/Ezekial/Chin Strap/Jebediah beard. I had joined the great ranks of men with beards, something I had never thought possible. Even when I left it around just to gross out/surprise my friends and family back home, it was met with indifference. Could it be possible that I should keep this beard? The opinions were divided, and in the end I thought it best to get rid of it. Not to say it won't come back, but it didn't seem to really help me one way or another, although I did get the bedroom eyes from two Amish girls sitting in the waiting area of a plane I was waiting for, which was probably a catalyst for getting rid of it. Either way, I still tend to get ID'd at places for buying beer, beard or no.

When I showed up in Wisconsin, I noticed I had a mini fridge, so went to a gas station to stock it up with some PBR. When I walked up to the counter, the woman behind it actually looked angered that I had approached. She then proceeded to glance back and forth from my ID for about a minute, when she scoffed and handed it back to me, to which I replied, "I am 23 you know." I don't know if it is just the amount of kids she gets coming in with fake ID's or if I still look like I'm 16, but if she does it again, I will so give it two months and I will grow that disgusting beard back. I am so not even kidding.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

At least you have solid colored Irish facial hair. Mine grows in patches of red, blonde, and brown. The saddest part is, I can feel my regular hair getting thinner at the front, and I'm afraid I'll be bald before I can grow a real beard.

Hope all is well.

-Chris Stanley