Last night I was at the bar with a buddy I've been hanging out with so much that I think he needs a blog nickname . . . We'll call him Oats.
So, Oats and I are drinking entirely too many light beers at the bar on a slow rainy night when suddenely about 12 dudes with mustaches come onto the scene and make the place instantly fun. The music was all 1980's stuff too because the DJ is a friend of mine and knows what's up, so seeing all these mustached dudes getting their groove on to the likes of Huey Lewis was amazing. I don't think I was the only one jealous of how much fun these guys were having based on the way everyone was transfixed on them, but I think I was one of the only ones stricken with a severe case of mustache envy.
You see, I can't grow very good facial hair. It's all splotchy and the space just below my nose inexplicably can grow zero hairs, like someone gave me electrolysis that I didn't know about. Perhaps the facial hair I was most envious of belonged to a fella who looked exactly like Keith Hernandez. I said to one of "Keith's" buddies, "Did you know your friend over there looks exactly like Keith Hernandez?" And he goes, "Keith Hernandez!" just like Newman on "Seinfeld," right on cue. This only deepened the envy. I wanted to be friends with these guys in the worst way.