Bearded Girlfriend

I don’t like going to the park. At least parks with swings. It’s because of my girlfriend’s beard. She likes me to push her on the swings but somehow she manages to get her beard tangled in that top bar overhead. Always. Don’t ask me how. It’s a gift. So she’s hanging there from her beard, head back, neck strained, kicking her feet and whining. I look for someone to help me laugh at her, usually a jogger, but they never stop. So what happens is some lady pushing her kid in a stroller will pass by and call me a jerk. I’ll call her damaged goods. Then some dude will ask “why is that goat hanging from the swing set?” “That’s animal cruelty, man.” And I’ll say “Hey buddy. That’s no goat. That’s my girlfriend.” The dude will be like ‘fuck’ then resume picking dinner out of the trash. You’d think that a bearded woman dangling from a swing set would draw a crowd but I guess it’s all that froth coming out of her mouth that scares people away. I take out my beard trimming scissors but she deftly kicks them out of my hand. “Do it the right way!” she screams. “Get the toolbox!” A half an hour and quart of Gatorade later I finish disassembling the swing set. She works her way off but her beard is split and mangled with bits of rust and metal flakes. She cries “My beard is ruined. I’m so ugly.” She always says this. And I shrug. I never argue with her because it’s the truth. I just hope she’s not ugly after the sex change is done.