I was sitting in a doctors surgery feeling decidedly miserable. Two days before my face had been pounded with a baseball bat and a steel pipe. My nose was flattened and my left eye socket was cracked in several places. I looked like a Panda.
The doctor was going to give me a local and reset my face. Yes, my face, not a bone or just my nose but, sigh, my face. Now let's get this straight, I think the word 'reset' has lost a lot of it's gravity. In the past resetting something took time and it was no small effort, but with the advent of computers it just means hitting a button when the fucking thing crashes. Its a pain but ......meh 1 minute later you are up and running again. Damn I wish you could do that with a face.
– What happened son?
– Got bottled
– No, problem just let me hit the reset ........there you go ...... good as new
Would make them Saturday nights a damn sight easier.
Anyhow the doctor was going to give me a local before she got to work with her hammer and pliers.
– I'm just going to give you an injection in the space between your nose and eye. It's going to hurt a little as the needle goes in but ........soon you won't feel a thing.
I nearly JUMPED of my chair as it went in. Doctors have this amazing habit of understating things. Personally I think they should do trial runs on themselves and that way they won't come out with platitudes such as “this could sting a little”.
– Ooops, be careful there I could have hit your brain with the needle. That's ..... assuming your brain is normal size.
– Ho,ho,ho very fucking funny you should be on stage.
You know this doctor is actually quite good looking .......no no no..... that's an understatement she's ...... really ........rather beautiful .......and she obviously does have a sense of humor. The door opened and a nurse walked in the room carrying a bowl of plaster of paris and gauze. You know she isn't bad either... maybe a little chubby and the pink rinse is not so cool...... but ..... sort of cute in a mumsy sort of way.
– Hold up, the local you gave me ...... was that cocaine?
– Yep, medical grade better than anything you could ever buy out on the streets.
Okaaaaayyy ...... that explains it .......she still looks cute though. She stuck the doctor's equivalent of a pair of long-nosed pliers up my nose, wiggled them, gently at first then a bit harder ...
...... you know it really was a beautiful day....... the rain was making the leaves on the trees dance ..... the blood dripping from my nose was making flowers on the floor. A transient Jackson Pollock that only a few people would have the priveledge to see. After a few more minutes of adjusting the doctor proudly announced that it was as good as she could get it and that my eye socket could probably hold my eye in a bit better.
The plaster cast was a delicious experience. Cool soothing layers of bandages and plaster which drew out life's poisons, refreshing the skin and replenishing the vitality of the muscles beneath. I want live forever and relish every moment of it.
Walking down the street afterwards made me decide that this was going to be a once in a lifetime experience. If I had any of this stuff again I was going to fuck myself real hard. My addictive, obsessive personality was not going to let me get away with it being a recreational type thing. Never had it since. Amazing memory of it though. Can totally understand how it can destroy people.
What's this got to do with shaving? More than you think. I just had a terrble morning. Tokyo was being hit by a typhoon and it was really fucking pissing it down. It was so bad that the trains had been affected and there were ridiculous delays. I arrived at the metro station drenched and I mean drenched! The subway station was crowded with refugees from the JR* and it was difficult getting on the platform. ......grrr fffnnnn ....grrrr..... If the guy behind elbows me in the back one more time I'm going to rip his balls off.
I could go into a whine about how crowded the train was ..... the enforced intimacy with strangers ....the smell .......but that would be falling into a cliche. Anyway my right eye was starting to hurt like hell and it was beginning to become the focus of my bad mood. I needed to get a grip and relax.
Go get a haircut. Always hated haircuts.
Hairdressers have mirrors. Hate mirrors.
Can see myself. Hate looking at myself.
Usually shut my eyes the whole time and when the hairdresser says is that ok I always say “yeah great” just so that I can get out as fast as possible. Have had some really bad haircuts as a result. First time I had a cut in Japan I shut my eyes waiting for it to be over and they started to give me a head massage .....what ...what ......ow .....oh hold on that's really nice. Some do it while they are washing your hair, some after they finished cutting and some at every opportunity. It's just part of the service.
So at lunchtime I went to get a haircut. The usual place I go to, the one with the cute woman was closed, so was another I used to go to. Nya, ok, here was one open. Empty too. It had opened a few months back. I went to that. Inside it was more like a turn of the century barbers shop with chairs that looked like serious engineering projects and sinks that you could drown someone in. The only difference to barber shops back home was that it wasn't staffed by a guy in his 60's with a taxi driver banter. Ahhhh whatever. Just do it.
Sat down, closed my eyes and said “onegaishimasu” to everything he asked. The massage bit ........ah complete fucking heaven ...... this guy was good. He tipped the chair to about 60 degrees, and carefully placed some hot towels on my face and neck. Ummm ..... I think I'm going to get a shave. I must have done one too many onegaishimasu's. A shave ..... hum .......I have really sensitive skin ........a razor only needs to wink at me and it will look like I have been playing pat-a-cake with a grizzly. Aching eye, slashed neck, not sure I need this. The towels do feel nice tho .....like they are sucking the negativity away ....awww fuck it ....whatever ..... give me a shave.
Have never been given a shave before. I'm certain that certain types of people get them all the time, but I'm not that type, nor are any of my family. It sort of has an image of privilege. Spoiled rich men who think that women are a different species and intimacy is flicking each other with wet towels in the shower after some bonding sports. *Raises eyebrows. Yes a male ritual.
Shaving me must have been an experience. Japanese men don't have that much facial hair, me, I'm one base pair away from gorilla. It must have been tricky trying to decide where the beard stopped and the pubic hair began. Didn't envy him ......but it didn't seem to phase him. The shave was immaculate. Better than anything I could ever hope to do. No blood anywhere. There is obviously something more to this shaving thing and I haven't been party to it.
Really could get into this .........eeeeeaaaawwwrrr ......wait a minute this is the road to obliteration. Now ......if I have a shave every month or so it will stay a special thing, will have something to look forward to and be able hop around in the same levels of deliciousness. Maybe once a month and that month is almost up .....Yes!!! - a definite gutteral, animalistic ring to that.
