Everybody has had a bad haircut.  It's a universal thing.  You look like an idiot for a couple of weeks and move on, no big deal.  That is, unless your terrible haircut is immortalized in some way.  I'm talking your driver's license, or your passport, or the pictures from your sister's wedding....  People look at the picture and then they look back at you and then they look at the picture again, befuddled and confused as to why you would have done something so terrible to your own face. 

When I have a bad haircut I tend to look a lot like Shaun White (the snowboarder) from the days when he was known as "The Flying Tomato."  Needless to say, this is not a good look for me.  My sister still thinks it's funny to send me random pictures of Shaun White advertisements with the caption "twinsies;" I am never amused.

Unfortunately, my passport photo is from when I was 17 and in the throes of an atrocious Flying Tomato-esque haircut.  I've traveled with this passport for quite some time now and customs officers never give it/me more than a passing glance.

In St. Marten there are at least three different customs/immigration/airport officials that have to check your passport before you can leave.  On my way home for Christmas, I handed my passport to one of the various officials.  I waited for her to hand it back.  And then waited some more.  And then I got nervous.  Why was she taking so long to look at my passport?  She scrutinized that photograph and then thoughtfully looked at my face.  This went on for a while.  She looks at my face and then looks at my picture and then looks at my face some more.  Finally, she hands me my passport back with a serious face and says in a delightfully strong Caribbean accent "baaaannngggs were a good choice."

I guess she wasn't a Shaun White fan.


Popular posts from this blog

The (Alternative) Commencement Speech*

Go ahead and stick a fork in me, I'm done

Five-Year Plans


Talkin' funny