[I wrote this when I was 20… Decided to post it in all it’s youthful glory]
I hate that I must shave daily.
Since my facial hair is a loose confederation of follicles by nature (otherwise known as patchy), which consistently attempt to form a “beard” on my face, I must shave every day to keep up appearances for my fellow man. It’s a burden but I enjoy people, most of them anyway, and desire to do my part. A rough, patchy beard inspires such a deep uncertainty that a man forced to see such an atrocity would not be held to account for calling off any social contact they might otherwise enthusiastically pursue. A patchy beard says many things about a man, none of them complimentary.
It could be laziness or bad genes, but, really who would want to engage in business with such a man? Or, if this man doesn’t shave, it means he gives no thought to the low atheistic impressions he emits and how those impressions are injurious to the receiver. A bad shave or rough face will always be a sore sight to men, causing them to absentmindedly stroke their own face in recognition of its smoothness, or lush, full beardedness, and to make sure that it rests in that state.
A man’s shaving requires years of training and even then it is only guess work. Many toilet tissues have sacrificed themselves on The Alter of “Whoops” and give testament to a man’s learning curve. Even careful instruction by a mentor or guardian gives no relief, although I dare say that is a practice running short today (My own education was from “Lethal Weapon 2” when Danny Glover was teaching his son to shave). A man must learn by practice and at times it is a painful process. Even with the many useful products today, the task is laborious.
One invention that has not caught up to the innovative standards set by the razors is shaving cream. I imagine that aside from better dispensers, not much has improved to make a closer or better shave. Gel to foam was a recent upgrade but even that has proved false. The substance never foams as you wish and a man can never be sure how much to use, eventually deciding on an amount that is always wrong.
I stood at the mirror this morning facing that very dilemma, two hands full of “foam” but at an ill tempered consistency and far too little to cover the face in question. My heart broke as I reached for the dispenser yet again because I knew no matter what amount I decided that now it would result in too much. Such a waste down the drain, but I watched it go.
Yet the constant need remains and man cannot shirk his duty to aesthetics and proper grooming. It is inconceivable that he would want to do such a thing. A society of patchily bearded men strolling about would be disastrous to the economy (for the previously mentioned reasons) and fully bearded men would properly rule us because they would be the only men still with female company.