Marsh stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. The face staring back at him seemed foreign, almost alien. It was a him he hadn't seen in almost two decades, and it barely even resembled that person. Back then, he had been idealistic, gazing eagerly upon a world of potential. He had looked forward to carving a path for himself with Nancy at his side every step of the way. Together they would accomplish the American Dream in the most glorious way. In their wedding pictures he was clean-shaven, and the kids used to laugh about his beaming boyish face back then. But this time around, he just looked worn out and tired and strangely ordinary. He noticed several wrinkles his mustache had previously hidden from view.
His mustache had seemed like an integral part of him, but this morning he had suddenly decided it wasn't. Now he wasn't so sure. He'd had it ever since... hmm... he thought back and recalled that it originated the year Samantha, his oldest, was born. Seventeen years, then. For seventeen years he had trimmed it and groomed it, experimented with several looks before settling on the moderately full version that was so familiar to anyone who knew him now.
He wouldn't have to care for it anymore. He'd just shaved one task out of his morning routine. It was his first successful attempt to simplify his life, and that thought gave him satisfaction. And he'd eventually get used to his new look, as would his friends. He no longer resembled the man Nancy married or the man she divorced. He was somebody else entirely.
Of course, it would earn him quite a bit of attention this morning when he arrived at work. Which he needed to do within the next few minutes. So Marsh tore himself away from the bathroom mirror, grabbed his things, located his car keys, and headed out.
Mariluz was, as usual, the first one to greet him. "Good morning, Marsh!" she trilled, and then beamed up at him from the reception desk as she noticed. "Aye muchacho! You almos' don't look like yourself!"
"Do you like it?" Marsh asked her.
"Si, Mister Marshall. You look very, ah, hermoso. Just, oh, I was not expecting. Oh, you have a phone message, and here are the records you asked for on Friday." She granted him a big, toothy, red-lipped smile as she passed a stack of papers over the counter to him. He took them and continued to his office in the back of the building.
As he headed out again to make himself a cup of coffee in the breakroom, Oscar greeted him in the hall. "New look, eh?" he said. "Hey, now we get to find out the answer to the question that's been on everyone's minds for years."
"Oh?" Marsh asked, taking the bait willingly.
"Yeah, does Marsh ever smile?" Oscar snickered at his own joke and launched directly into a business-related discussion.
Later that morning, Shauna gave him a nod of approval but said nothing, and that was the extent of his co-workers' and employees' reactions. Zephyr didn't even blink. And of course it would have been unreasonable to expect Reg to notice.