This is me pretending I have a handlebar mustache.
I desperately wanted to take a picture of the young man with the mustache, but I’m slow and not very sly. So instead of a picture of a man, who was 20 at most, with a fantastically manicured handlebar mustache, deep side part with all of his hair slicked down, and a tweed spots jacket with suede elbow patches, you get a selfie.
On the up side, you’ve caught me at a bold moment. I never would have thought I would share a selfie with the world. It’s a small move, but perhaps I’m inching out of my shell.
I’m thankful for small moves. And for running into somebody who clearly stepped out of a William Dean Howells novel.