The Only Mexican in Korea

(Is the stache me or what???)
















When I came down with the flu, I was far too weak to do anything let alone shave the few black hairs that pop up on my face. I was sucking my thumb trying to conserve energy for self-preservation while under blankets in the fetal position, hardly a time to think about shaving, which I might add is one of my least favorite things to do in the world, right behind going to the dentist. After days of being in the fetal position, I noticed something right above my lip. Yes that is the faint beginning of a mustache, so in an effort to be funny I just kept letting it grow. Then a strange thing happened to me. People, friends even, would tell me how much they liked mustaches. One of my co-workers even had one!


I became confused. Maybe I look good in my 1/2 stache, which is exactly what I kept thinking to myself. I googled mustaches, and it appears the mustache is in the early stages of a comeback. (you can research it if you want to) Now, I have never been on the forefront of anything. I am what marketers would call late majority. Hardly memorable and pretty conservative, but the mustache became my chance to take part of something right from the beginning (or in this case the Renaissance). If I would rock the mustache before anyone else, well my friends, a seat of glory would be waiting for me right next to Brad Pitt and George Clooney.

Maybe my illusions of grandeur got into my head prematurely, because if Mr. Pitt (sexiest man alive, ditto for Clooney) was wearing a mustache it can't be a fashion mistake. I mean, I had to be close to the cutting edge of fashion if Pitt was wearing one. I convinced myself that I looked cool with the few hairs above my lip. I was going to be the person who brought the mustache to Korea, an innovator for the first time in my life!






All of my illusions came screeching to a halt last Friday, when these two things happened.

1. I noticed that one particular post puberty student had a better mustache than mine. How did I notice this? He told me... "Teacher, Teacher, you have mustache like me. Mine is bigger and better."* "No," I said, "your hair is just blacker, that makes it look thicker and better." I said this as fast as I could, hoping he wouldn't be able to understand me, thus gaining my excuse credibility.
2. Not even ten minutes later, right after the class bell rings, I am walking in the hallway and one of my students points at my stache and starts laughing. "Teacher, Teacher, are you Mexican?" How do I respond to this? How does he even know Mexicans are sterotyped with creepy mustaches? At this instance, I knew the stache had to go.

* That's what she said...

How did I fall victim to the power of the stache? I blame my friends who were out to sabotage me. Was this some kind of inside joke, and behind my back these so called friends were laughing their heads off? I blame the 70's and all the hippy fashions that refuse to die; they tricked me into believing one more fad is on the verge of a comeback. I blame my marketing professors for telling me innovators are the entrepeneurs of this world. But most of all I blame YOU, BRAD PITT! And your damn good looks, making it look easy to rock a stache.