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Adulting is Hard When Your Chin Hair is Working Against You

by Lindsay Rae Brown 15 days ago in Workplace

The facial hair from hell that lost me my job

Adulting is Hard When Your Chin Hair is Working Against You
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

“Oooh,” I squealed to my husband as I rolled over in bed that morning, “today’s the day, Jamie!”

Jamie was still half asleep but groggily draped an arm over me and whispered, “You’ll do great, Lind-Bae.” I don’t know why, but he insists on using that stupid nickname anytime I’m excited—I suspect to ruin my good cheer.

It was a warm spring morning, and I was determined that today would be the day I became an adult woman. Of course, being 34 at the time, I technically was an adult woman. But when considering my previous track record of dealing with adulty things, the odds of being seen as a grown-up weren’t in my favour.

I was to attend a business meeting that morning, and my excitement was brimming!

I had never really been to a business meeting because I am not a very professional person. For three years, my husband and I owned a sandwich shop, so maybe the times we fooled around in the back storeroom were considered meetings of a sort, but I had a sneaking suspicion that this was going to be different.

A few weeks prior, an old acquaintance had found me on Facebook telling me that he loved the social media work I was doing lately. Between the self-promotion of my writing and some various content work I had done for a local restaurant, he advised that he loved the quirky humour I presented in the marketing world.

Mark was building a startup that had to do with uplifting local businesses and wanted me to head the social media department. Of course, the entire team consisted of him and me, but that didn’t dissuade me. I was on board immediately.

I was determined that none of the previous “lindsayisms” that had got me into trouble in the past sneak out during our meeting.

So far, it seemed that my new business partner hadn’t learned about my nippy pic fiasco with my previous employer nor the time I placed photos of cartoon penises on a kid’s menu I was designing.

As it stood, my track record for professionalism was not good. Not good at all. But Mark didn’t need to know that, right?

Today I was wearing my big girl panties. And they were 100% cotton blend.

My hair was styled in an important updo, and my paperwork all filed into a fancy little briefcase dealy at my side. I was even wearing heels!

So expert. Such wow.

The meeting occurred during the time right before masks became mandatory in my city. So, upon entering the board room where I would be adulting like mad, my business partner invited me to take off my mask.

If only I had refused his invitation. If only I had kept it on, therefore avoiding the face touching and gasping under my breath.

For you see, it was only about 10 minutes into the meeting when I caught something out of the corner of my eye.

It was a long black wire thing jutting out from my skin. I casually reached to my face to find that I had what seemed to be a two-inch pubic hair growing out of my chin.

Yes. It was so long that I could see the thing.

I don’t know why I was so concerned about the hair. Usually, I’m not an exceedingly vain person and can shrug off the awkwardness that comes with being a maturing human being.

But the idea of being a professional adult was at the forefront of my mind that day. And now, I figured, all that was going to be threatened by this god damn chin hair.

To be fair, my business partner wouldn’t have ditched me for rogue hair on my chin.

It was what happened next, I assume, that gave him the nudge to toss me out like a smelly old banana peel—for part of my proposed job would be interacting with clients to help them build their social media pages.

Tell me, please, if this is the type of person you’d like to swoon your clients.

“Sorry, Mark, I just have to cut you off for a second,” I said, thinking that getting the thing out in the open was my best course of action.

“Uh, okay,” he replied hesitantly.

“Do you,” I started, “do you see this hair I just found on my chin?” Mark squinted and looked closely at my face.

“Yeah, I guess, no big deal,” He said, trying to shrug it off and get back to our talk about SEO and marketing strategy.

Why I couldn’t leave it at that, I may never know. But I didn’t leave it at that. I kept going, and the deep personal shit-show I shared next will haunt me forever.

This is the danger of trying to be funny in a business meeting and failing hard.

“It just reminded me of the time I had a hair growing directly out of my nipple,” I said, accompanying my statement with a nervous laugh.

But I didn’t stop there. I kept rambling on, saying, “I told my friends about it when discovering the thing in the shower, and they called me Long John Silver for like two weeks because the hair, growing from the dead center of my nip, was greying. Did you know that could even happen?”


Then I added, “Just wanted to bring it up, so you weren’t staring at this chin hair for the rest of the meeting,” halfheartedly as if that would make it better somehow.

Poor Mark. There he sat, stunned to silence.

I realized I had made an error as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I shuffled some paperwork in front of me and resumed our talk as if nothing had happened. Maybe he would forget about it?

He didn’t forget. A few days later, Mark called me and said that he had decided to go in a different direction with the business and wouldn’t need me at this time. He did say once he developed the model more, he would call and bring me back.

Over a year later, and I’m still waiting for that call.

Jamie excitedly asked how the meeting went when I got home that afternoon. I looked my hopeful husband dead in the face and told him that I don’t think I’m cut out for the corporate world.

He’d just better get used to me making a living by writing humiliating stories about our lives for all the internet to read.

Jamie replied the way any loving husband might, “It’s all good Lind-Bae, you’ll catch your break one day.”


If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to pop over to my profile page, where there are many more stories about the life and times of Lindsay Rae Brown and her humiliating "lindsayisms".

Lindsay Rae Brown
Lindsay Rae Brown
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Lindsay Rae Brown

Lindsay Brown is a freelance writer who loves to give people a chuckle with relatable stories about everyday life.

See all posts by Lindsay Rae Brown

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