Friday 14 November 2008

Somewhere I belong

Approaching the training day yesterday at the water park, I noticed something. I didn't belong, in a purely aesthetic sense. They handed out booklets that said as much, but it was obvious when I arrived. I was the only guy there with facial hair. I was the only guy there who's hair touched his shoulders. I was the only guy who didn't have a great deal of product keeping his locks looking intentionally disheveled. I was also the only guy there with nail polish. That last one was to be expected, but to have it spelled out in a manual was strange.

- Sideburns must be cut above the earlobe
- No goatees or beards, only a neatly trimmed moustache is allowed
- No nail polish

Them's the rules, I guess. So I prepared myself mentally for the looming beardlessness, and hoped that my hair would look ok after a trim. I sought out the Human Resources Manager to ask what steps I should take.

"No. It looks neat. That's fine."

I didn't ask about the nails, though.

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