Razor Ramblings: That Was Ugly

“Finally the end was near.  The last cream was applied in a much calmer fashion, or at least compared to the previous two.  As I stepped out into the fresh air, my face felt like it had been sandpapered and then rubbed with hot chili oil.  My eyes were on fire and observers probably noticed me shuddering as I stumbled down the alleyway back to meet Ryan.”

As shaves go, I think that day in Jaipur was probably the worst. Well, until last night.

Location: Same as last time
# of Nick: Can you count the number of stars in the sky?
Rating: 1/5

The old man in the shop did a great job last time. Sure, the threading hurt like crazy, but it was no reason not to go back for one of those close shaves that only a veteran blade wielder can give. To be honest, I think I was starting to take a liking to the guy. He called me habibi, I called him habibi (my love). He shaved my face, I gave him a great story to tell his family. It was a match made in heaven.

Then it all went wrong. I’m still not even sure if I can comprehend what happened. Nothing made sense. He proceeded as normal, but this time managed to scrape and chop up my face. And the proof was definitely in the pain I experienced when he sprayed the alcoholic “eau de cologne” all over and rubbed it in with one single square of toilet paper.

It had never happened before. My skin can usually stand up to even the toughest of razors. When I checked the damage, it wasn’t pretty. Nicks and cuts and scrapes everywhere.

Alas, I’ll still go back, but I’ll be sure to sit in a sauna beforehand to open up my pores.