Sarah and I went to see a Cirque du Soleil-type show at the American Music Theatre a few weeks ago and found ourselves seated behind a couple who looked to be in their mid-50s. The entire 15 minutes we were there waiting for the show to start, the fairer half of the couple caught up on what appeared to be a regular schedule of primping: hair combing, nail filing, the whole shebang.
The weirdest part of this whole experience wasn’t that they were doing all of this grooming seated in a theater, but that the one doing all of the upkeep was the guy. Don’t believe me?
Here he is, in all of his fanciful glory, maintaining his nails with an emery board.
Pink sweater. Perfect helmet head with no hairs out of order. Bling-bling watch. Nail file.
Nope. Not weird at all.