Lip Service

*Note, blogger has been cutting the fool all day long, so much so that Jam and I have decided to take these fools to court for distress and cruelty, so let's see if this entry publishes*

I think I realize something about playing up your best qualities that I didn't know before. It helps if you don't play up the not-so-good ones. Like for example, I do homegrown mustache and goatee trimmings until I can summon up the courage to find a black barbershop to take this afro off the top of my skull and clear my face completely as well (that day is coming next pay day, don't worry folks). And after the final snips are done and I soak the lower half of my face in astringent, I smile. A genuine, relieved, "I'm feeling sexyyyyyyyyyy, I wanna hear you say my name girl" smile.

For those who aren't completely familiar with the enigma that is Chris, smiling has never been something I've done with great pleasure after the age of, let's say 12. The seeds for the moody, depressed, aloof person I've had a tug of war with for a decade were planted and I just never stayed in front of a camera just to smile.

Smiles really became non-existent when the hairy gene my dad passed on to me took effect, covering my face in hair. I used to think I was hideous, grinning with a full on beard and goatee. Then when I realized that barbers could get rid of the mustache/goatee combo that really wasn't that damn hairy with clippers (I still haven't learned to shave), I had that added as part of my time in the chair, and when it was done, I felt like a new man.

Back to playing up your best attributes, when I think of best physical qualities, not to much comes to mind, and I guess my size has something to do with that, but two things I'll always be sure of; women love my eyes and my lips. Especially my lips. Since I became *ahem* active almost seven years ago (damn, has it been that long?), the compliments have mostly centered on how fun it is to kiss me because of these soup coolers.

Of course I was skeptical, because I've never paid any attention to a physical compliment, especially after so many years of being torn down for being a bigger guy. "My lips can't be that appealing...can they?" Well, once I started 86ing the mustache and keeping Chap Stick on me, the appeal was apparent. I now think I'm the most kissable Negro in America, and I'm sure enough in my sexuality and masculinity that I can count my lips as a solid physical attribute that any women would love to have in a man.

So I've figured it out. As long as I keep hair off my face and a genuine smile, I'll have an ally in the ongoing war against low self-esteem. And that's something you can seal with a kiss.