I got a haircut yesterday. Not a big deal in and of itself, I get one every two weeks. When I was active duty, I got one every 4 or 5 days. Over the past year or so, though, I’ve taken to shaving the sides of my head after the barber is done clipping them down. It adds a few days to the cut, feels better and, I think, looks all right.
I’ve gotten good at it. I still use a small mirror in the shower, but for the most part, I know where the line is and can guide the razor around fairly well, after all, I’ve been shaving my face in the shower sans mirror for years.
Last night, though, I had just finished shaving my scalp and noticed I still had a good bit of hot water left so I decided to just stand under the water for a bit and relax. Being a normal male, I looked at my penis. After doing the weekly check for testicular lumps/cancer, I noticed that it was time for a trim down there.
I usually use scissors to trim the hair to a decent length, as my Italian ancestry tends to leave a healthy growth that could, in a few short weeks, not reasonably be called “short hairs.” Here’s where things get interesting.
The water was hitting my back just right, hitting the lumbar area and easing out the irritation of the day. I had nothing in particular to do last night, a little shopping for alcohol and snacks in preparation for the Kentucky Derby this weekend, but that was it. I intended to stay under that water as long as possible. Then, somewhere, deep in my mind, a thought formed: “Why don’t you just shave?”
“I could trim it up a little,” thought I in response, “but not too much, or too close.” I’d used clippers once years ago (at my ex-fiancées request) and itched like a hatter for days. I figured shaving would be worse. “Okay,” thought I, “I’ll just shave a little. Maybe see if I can trim down the hair, but that’s it.” I thought of the threads where people, male Dopers, posted about shaving their privates. How it itched, looked different or how occasionally they would nick themselves with the razor :eek: I thought about those posts and countered, thinking “Yeah, but I’m not going to shave, I’m just going to trim a little.”
It’s amazing the bargains we make with ourselves when we already know what the real outcome is going to be. The rationalization and latitude we give ourselves, knowing that we’re just going to do it anyway, so let’s at least try and say we were aiming at something a little less and got carried away or miss-stepped and really didn’t intend to go as far as we did. I knew, as soon as the thought entered my head, I knew that I was going to shave, and shave bare, the entire region down there. I knew I was, but I told myself I was “only going to trim a little” … “Okay, well, maybe the sack, too” … “Well, may as well get the shaft, too” … “Hey, clean up the stuff right there…yeah, that too, and over there, and there, and there.” Next thing I knew, but knowing all the time, I was bald and pink…well, tan anyway.
Jokingly, as I was looking at my handiwork, I rationalized it once again, this time thinking “Well, it’s probably better than getting the Prince Albert.”
This morning, as I type this, I noticed the first real itching. I think I’m in trouble here, folks.
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