Beards are wonderful. They can easily make any guy go from a 6 to a 9. Try to show me a guy who doesn’t look better with at least a little scruff (spoiler alert: you won’t be able to). Growing a beard is a surefire way to make you forget all of the shitty qualities your man holds, like how he only ever texts you to see where you’re going out that night, or how he loves to mess with your hair when you’re making out even though you spent 45 minutes getting it perfectly straight.
I never realized that there could be a downside to making out with a bearded dude. I’ve made out with plenty of guys, both with facial hair and babyface, just to be able tell the difference between the two. Until recently, I would’ve told you that scruffy gents take the cake. It wasn’t until that man that I finally found out how evil beards could be.
It was Monday morning, and I had spent the previous weekend “helping build Ikea furniture” with a guy from Bumble I had met a couple of weeks beforehand. I woke up feeling relatively normal, and went about my morning routine as usual. It wasn’t until I went to the bathroom and saw my face in the mirror that I realized something was wrong.
All around my mouth was completely red and sore. No joke, it looked like I had been attacked by a hoard of angry wasps, only my face. It was disgusting.
I began racking my brain, trying to figure out what could be causing it. I hadn’t worn any new makeup recently, and I knew I wasn’t allergic to anything I had eaten over the weekend. As far as I knew, Bumble guy wasn’t ill, so I couldn’t have gotten anything from him, at least that quickly.
It was a few moments before I decided that I needed to bite the bullet and do what I didn’t want to do: ask my mother. The last thing I wanted to do was tell my Jewish mother what I had been doing that weekend with a man who 1. Wasn’t Jewish and 2. I had met over the internet .
Well, it turns out that somehow she already knew what I had done, because the first question out of her mouth was, “Does he have a beard?” I nodded my head, and through the phone I could hear a sly smirk come across her face as she told me, “You probably have beard burn.”
She couldn’t be serious. This couldn’t be a thing. Turns out, it is. First off, what kind of name is “Beard Burn”? Just the two words together makes my skin crawl. Second, how was I going to get rid of this monstrosity, ASAP? It’s hard enough getting through life with my rest bitch face and hair so frizzy it could generate electricity. But now I had to walk around with a rash on my face? Nope, not gonna happen.
One might think covering it up with makeup would fix the problem. Well fortunately for you, and unfortunate for me, I now have the experience to tell you this is not a good idea. Several hours (and two job interviews) later, my makeup was dry and peeling off like a bad sunburn.
Thankfully the rash went away in a few days. Now all I can do now is make sure no other girls fall victim to the same fate as me. Am I telling you to avoid kissing a bearded dudes forever? Absolutely not. Just make sure he throws some lotion on before you start sucking his face.
Has he texted me since then? No. Would I come running if he ever did? Absolutely, but not without some moisturizer..
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