The lovely, talented, and way, way too young for the likes of me (and darn near omnipotent) She Who Must Be Obeyed (also here and darn near everywhere) gave me a bottle of Old Spice (among other wonderful and thoughtful gifts) for Christmas.
Before I did the stupid guy thing and asked Her why, I considered the possibility She wanted to torture me for some reason or other. Old Spice on a freshly shaved face reminds me of Moe Syzlak and Holy Water. "It burns! It burns!"
Nahhhhh. She's not the type (to do something that is easily traced back to Her) so I did the stupid guy thing and asked Her why.
Since She is more reasonable than your average female, She didn't yell "What do you mean, 'why', you idiot?" at Your Humble Servant.
She merely flashed the international female signal for "idiot" (a slight wrinkle of the cutest little nose on God's blue earth) and said " I like the way it smells."
You would think that would end it, wouldn't you, kiddies? You would be wrong.
Putting aside the really crazy thoughts whirling through my poor old head ("Does She sniff other guys?", "Do they smell better than me?", et cetera.) I did another stupid guy thing and told her a story about another girl.
I know, I know. Believe me, I know.
Once upon a time there was a girl whom I tricked into dating me. After a few dates she showed up unannounced at my place on a Saturday afternoon and I had not shaved that day. Shocking, isn't it, kiddies?
I did have an excuse. It was the middle of the 1980's and Miami Vice was all the rage. Stubble and pastels were in.
Anyway, I grabbed her and kissed her as was my wont, but she objected to my proto-beard. Being a gentleman and eager to get back to the kissing (A zeugma? Maybe.) I volunteered to shave immediately. She thought that was a capital idea and asked if she could watch.
I thought that was mildly strange, but agreed. When we got to the bathroom, she asked if she could lather my face. Visions of Joe Namath's shave cream commercial raced through my young head. Again I agreed. (Do you sense a pattern developing, kiddies?) She got her wish and then I shaved.
Afterwards, a good time was had by all.
Such a good time, in fact, that before I knew it I was shaving after all of our dates. With her help, of course.
After several good times were had by all she upped the ante. She said she wanted to shave me. Now, this wasn't so long ago, kiddies. It's not like I was handing a straight razor to a stranger and letting her scrape it across my throat. We did have safety razors back then, though they did have 50% fewer blades than today's models. And Lorena Gallo was still an Ecuadorian teenager.
So I let her do it. She was very careful and did a pretty good job.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. It was unbelievably sexy.
It never got old either. Though she did refuse to dress as a cheerleader before she shaved me. (That's a joke. It is also a gratuitous Charlie Sheen reference for the cognoscenti.) I would not have minded never shaving myself again.
Then I did the stupid guy thing and asked her why. She wouldn't tell me for some time, but persistence is often a stupid guy thing too. Eventually she told me it reminded her of her Dad and her older brothers. She had loved the scent and feel of shave cream as a child. She said she used to squish it between her fingers and toes and smear it all over her face when nobody was around. She also begged them to let her watch them shave.
DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!!!!!!!!
The alarm bells went off, albeit a bit late. They went off big time. And there were giant red flags all over the place. Let me modify that old saw lawyers use: "Never ask a question unless you're prepared for an incredibly weird and awkward answer."
And that was the end of that particular relationship.
Whew! That was a close shave! (Sorry. I could not resist.)
After I recounted this fascinating tale to my beloved babydoll, She stared at me, aghast. That's strange, I thought. After all, I had left out the so-called jokes and the superfluous cultural references.
I immediately recognized my gaffe and recovered nicely. "Of course that has nothing to do with why you bought me Old Spice, sweetie. I was just reminded of that story."
Surprisingly, that did not elicit anything from the distaff side of the conversation.
So I continued. (This is the last stupid guy thing of this post. I promise.)
"You just like the way it smells", I babbled.
"Idiot" said She.
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