Getting a bro haircut
I don't look like a bro in that photo, either, because, again, I'm not one. I'm wearing the same Avett Brothers T-shirt I got at a concert of theirs about five years ago. I wear it all the time. I don't shave my body hair. I don't particularly care how I dress.
I needed to shave my body, get a new haircut, and get new clothes.
I'm not shaving my beard because I look like I'm 12 without it, and because I don't ever trim it, I have sort of a poor man's James Harden thing going for me.
But my hair hasn't been cut for months, and it needs to go. Bros and Jewfros -- while those words rhyme -- do not go together. Bros keep their hair short and their game tight, bro.
The woman who cuts my hair is a treasure trove of info on bros, because she is married to one. I've seen photos of her husband on Facebook. He's ripped. But also one day they went to a monster truck rally and a poetry slam in one day. He loves poetry slams. Would not have guessed that. Are all bros complicated young men who harbor a secret love of slam poetry? I hope so. I hope I meet bros like that in my journey.