2 facts about life.
I hate shaving but like being cleanly shaved.
A beard doesn’t sit well on me.
It’s doesn’t look bad but it feels like I have a face full of hungry ants, whose favourite meal is face meat.
So, since my early twenties, I’ve had a choice, to scrape the most sensitive skin on my body with unforgiving metal, once every few days, or have a face full of ants on it.
I choose to scrape.
Then a few years back, tempted by the ease at which male models on TV got rid of their face fuzz, using electric shavers, I decided I’d be happy to receive one as a present for Christmas.
These guys would actually be smiling, as they gracefully glided their buzzing equipment all over their, ridiculously chiseled, features.
For the first time in my life, I was actually looking forward to a shave.
No more throwing cold water randomly over my head, lathering up and and ruthlessly scraping hair out of my pores.
I even decided not to shave a few days before Christmas, in anticipation of my new pleasurable morning routine.
On receiving the shaver, Christmas morning, I nearly ran to the bathroom, plugged it in and complete with smile, started cooly moving the vibrating device over my visage.
Ow! That hurts!
I looked at the silver mesh of the razor, thinking maybe I’d left some kind of packaging on it. Nope. I tried again – ahhhh! That’s is not nice. My head was being plucked to death.
I ploughed on, even though the discomfort didn’t disappear. What was happening? This is not how it looked on TV.
Not only did it hurt more than conventional shaving but it took a lot more time. I’d vigorously go over a patch of bristles only to reveal about 10% cuttage.
So I’d have to go over them again and again. I was slowly moving my skin around my face. Any more of this and my nose would end up where my right ear was.
Come boxing day and I was all done with my new gadget.
This experience only comes to mind because I ran out of traditional blades yesterday and had to resort back to my discarded Christmas present.
It was as bad as I remember it to be.
At one point I’m sure one follicle, positioned just below my right nostril, was teasing me. I tried over 20 times to cut that little blighter but every time I pulled the shaver away, it stood there defiantly, almost laughing at me.
There’s 2 fact about life I learned here:
1. Life isn’t always easy.
It’s often, not about picking the option you enjoy but the one that gives you less pain, then learning to put up with it.
For example I’m not a huge fan of exercise but I do it, pretty much everyday.
I do it because it’s less painful for me, in the long run both physically and mentally, than being unfit and overweight.
2. Male models, who smile on TV whilst they shave, are already clean shaven.