I don’t think he’s that ugly when I come across his morning beard or his yellowing teeth and uncombed hair. He looks like this every morning, at least for five days out of the week before he heads off to work. At least I’m helping someone out rather than looking at them critically. Really, though, the man didn’t look that bad, even though I wonder why he looked into me so much. He cared about his looks. He wasn’t that old yet, at least for an entry-level player in a suit-and-tie job, probably in advertising or even at a Wall Street gig. Sometimes, he looked into me and mumbled that his tie wasn’t straight or his suit jacket was too tight and might rip apart at the spine.Sometimes he’d bring a woman home, and while in the bathroom, she would also look into me and discover that she looked th
