Anonymity / Celebrity

I've come to realise that a good deal of my self-image has become irrevocably intertwined with my facial follicles.  I walk down the street and people take note, some strike up conversation and some speak in furtive whispers. Whichever the case may be, I'm still the guy with "the beard".

Some take their perverse interest a lot further by touching my face -- unprovoked, uninvited beard rape! They'll run their intrusive, probing phalanges in and out of my bushy face accoutrement commenting on how soft and clean it is. "How soft and clean", really?! How insulting; have people presumed that I've stopped washing?

These intrusions are akin to searching a pregnant woman's stomach with your hand-sonogram and bobbing for a fetus. Ask my permission and I'll more than likely grant you the privilege of stroking my face -- I'll more than likely enjoy it. However, I would like to know where your hands have been first.

Besides the local notoriety I've also gained a cloak of invisibility, a super-human ability to sneak past noticed, yet unnoticed -- as long as you've not seen me in the past 6 months. I've slipped past former colleagues, lovers, and frenemies without them even batting an eye. Quite a convenient talent for avoiding awkward, unwanted conversations.