I was a freshman, the smallest person in my high school at 4'8" and about 98 lbs. I had "beaten" the previous shortness record by 2 inches so you can imagine how often I was either stuffed in lockers or just straight up picked on. Now I was - how would you put it - a "late bloomer", if you know what I mean. Because I really didn't start getting masculine features (ie... facial hair - awe shoot any body hair for that matter) until senior year. But hey, I worked with what I had, and did have quite a few friends so it didn't scar me for life or anything.

One day, the first day back to school after an extended christmas vacation, I used my mothers eyelash wand to lightly stroke the fine hairs above my lips - you know, just to let everyone know that during vacation I "Sprouted".

Oh man was I cool!! I had this nice little Freddy Prince mustache. (remember this was back in the "Chico and the Man" days) Oh I was strutting. It somehow gave me more confidence to talk to more people than usual - especially the girls!! Man I must have talked to every girl in every class up to and through 4th period. In fact, they were coming up to me!!

Well, lunchtime came between 4th and 5th period and I usually hung out with my best friend durning lunch and afterwards because when we first signed up for classes we just couldn't get any together in the morning. So, we hung from lunch practically all the way till dinner time when we each had to go to back to our homes and family.

So at the begining of lunch I see my friend from across the cafeteria I'm already at the table where we usually eat and I'm sitting up real tall - well as tall as I could! My buddy comes over and sits across from me and starts eating not really paying attention and I really did want his opinion so after a couple of minutes and me initiating the conversation just to get him to look up and see my styling "Stache".

I don't even remember what he was eating but as soon as he looked up at me he spit out his food and started howling! He was busting up and everyone else at the table starts cracking up too! and I'm thinking "What the heck are they laughing at?"

Uh oh, all eyes were on me, Oh no what just happened? at this point my palms were sweating and if I remember correctly the hair on the back of my head was standing up (Yeah the only real unadulterated, truly, what I was born with hair I had at the time - those hairs. I was getting nervous.) After two minutes of uncontrolled gut busting laughter at the table my buddy says "Dude your mustache is BLUE!"

Oh at this moment how I wish some one would have pulled the fire alarm so that I could get out of there as quick as possible and for the greater good of MY universe everyone could be preoccupied with saving their own skins. But NO ! And with a sense of urgency I calmly got up (Head bowed downward eyes gazing toward my brow as never before - it even seemed to give me a slight headache) walked rather quickly to the closest restroom and went straight to that most wonderful of inventions -  the mirror - and stared at a pasty white practically ghostly reflection (Since I'd lost all color from my embarrassment.) which indeed did have what was once the single most uplifting (yet vanity driven and testosterone lacking) feature about me that morning had become a SMEARED NAVY BLUE thumbprint-looking "smudge" is the best word for it's description, I must have inadvertently rubbed it at some point .

It looked like a Rollie Fingers unwaxed half of a handlebar mustache thingy.

It resembled something that a child would have scribbled on a wall if given a blue sharpie and left unsupervised for a few moments.

How humiliating! I must have looked eye to eye with 100 people that day! and was this why all the girls were coming up to me? To get a good look at the guy with the blue mustache? yipes.

The next words from my friends mouth when I saw him again? "Dude here's a list of the homework you need to finish since you haven't come back for two days", As you can guess I needed some down time.

I look back now and shake my head and say to myself  "What were you thinking".

Marque



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