A little trouble letting go... how sad and pathetic
I’m a man in my twenties; so with the exception of mutilation, death, real intimacy and brussel sprouts there are few things I fear more than change. And nothing is more indicative of that nagging stomach churning ‘c’ word to me as having to purchase a new razor.
I’m going to admit one of the sad truths about some of us men, once we find a razor we dig it becomes like a part of us. As if it were made for our face and ours alone, it handles the contours of our face better than all the others on the market. It becomes akin to a very close friend.
For me it was the Tracer FX from Schick, which they stopped making quite a while ago. But knowing that it was coming off the market I stocked up like a madman, planning to forestall the process of having to purchase another razor for as long as humanly possible godsdamnit.
I don’t know if this level of attachment grows between a woman and her razor, so maybe you ladies don’t understand this… but I know more than a few of you guys certainly do. I didn’t want to try the stupid Mach 3 or the Fusion, because I had my trusty Tracer FX, that I’d been shaving with since I was fourteen years old. Sure the third blade and then the eventual fourth relieve the pressure buildup between skin and blade and thus are less likely to cause a cut. But does that matter if you know how to shave properly… NO. It’s just a gimmick to make those too stupid to shave properly feel less bad about their own creepishly moronic ineptitude.
But the Tracer’s day came some years back, and my supply was due to run out soon… and then I moved from my much loved apartment into a house I didn’t really want to move into. And somewhere in said process my trusty razor and my last two good blades were pitched into ye olde refuse. Leaving only one thing to do: procrastinate.
I waited as long as possible, but the beard began to look scraggly… VERY scraggly and just using the beard trimmer to chop it down to stubble wasn’t cutting it anymore. So I did what anyone in denial would do: I borrowed my father’s razor and said that I just couldn’t find mine. I was hoping that somehow in the intervening years they’d started selling the Tracer again and I would be spared having to choose a new one. Dad’s razor was some new Schick disposable (which apparently most two bladed razors are these days) and it left me unimpressed.
So armed with fresh payroll cash in yon account, I trekked to the Super K and began my search. Nope, no Tracer… but an ass ton of disposables and I truly hate disposable razors. They make my soul feel empty. I have to see my razor in its spot in the bathroom or I don’t feel like I’ve been in the bathroom at all.
I looked and looked, finding razor after three bladed razor and a great many that require a battery. C’mon goddamnit, if I wanted something with an electric charge I’d buy a fucking electric razor. Then luckily I found two I’d been considering: The Fusion four bladed behemoth and the Gillette Mach 3. The Mach 3 has been around longer and I know a great many people who swear by it, but then again the Fusion is the latest technology with that fourth blade and being a guy, I’m all about useless but new shit. But one look at the cost of refill blades for the fusion and I was on my way to the check out counter with my new Mach 3 Turbo. Fusion refill blades are twenty-five dollars a pop, and I’m sorry but for that price it had best give me a hand job while I’m shaving- or at least tell me my face is the best it’s ever shaved.
So now I’m the proud owner of a Gillette razor, which while it’s all nice and cool… just doesn’t feel right in my hand. Sure it gave me the smoothest, most effortless shave of my fourteen years of shaving… it still isn’t my Tracer FX.
Here’s some Edge gel for me, and some for my fallen homie: I miss you bro.
I’m going to admit one of the sad truths about some of us men, once we find a razor we dig it becomes like a part of us. As if it were made for our face and ours alone, it handles the contours of our face better than all the others on the market. It becomes akin to a very close friend.
For me it was the Tracer FX from Schick, which they stopped making quite a while ago. But knowing that it was coming off the market I stocked up like a madman, planning to forestall the process of having to purchase another razor for as long as humanly possible godsdamnit.
I don’t know if this level of attachment grows between a woman and her razor, so maybe you ladies don’t understand this… but I know more than a few of you guys certainly do. I didn’t want to try the stupid Mach 3 or the Fusion, because I had my trusty Tracer FX, that I’d been shaving with since I was fourteen years old. Sure the third blade and then the eventual fourth relieve the pressure buildup between skin and blade and thus are less likely to cause a cut. But does that matter if you know how to shave properly… NO. It’s just a gimmick to make those too stupid to shave properly feel less bad about their own creepishly moronic ineptitude.
But the Tracer’s day came some years back, and my supply was due to run out soon… and then I moved from my much loved apartment into a house I didn’t really want to move into. And somewhere in said process my trusty razor and my last two good blades were pitched into ye olde refuse. Leaving only one thing to do: procrastinate.
I waited as long as possible, but the beard began to look scraggly… VERY scraggly and just using the beard trimmer to chop it down to stubble wasn’t cutting it anymore. So I did what anyone in denial would do: I borrowed my father’s razor and said that I just couldn’t find mine. I was hoping that somehow in the intervening years they’d started selling the Tracer again and I would be spared having to choose a new one. Dad’s razor was some new Schick disposable (which apparently most two bladed razors are these days) and it left me unimpressed.
So armed with fresh payroll cash in yon account, I trekked to the Super K and began my search. Nope, no Tracer… but an ass ton of disposables and I truly hate disposable razors. They make my soul feel empty. I have to see my razor in its spot in the bathroom or I don’t feel like I’ve been in the bathroom at all.
I looked and looked, finding razor after three bladed razor and a great many that require a battery. C’mon goddamnit, if I wanted something with an electric charge I’d buy a fucking electric razor. Then luckily I found two I’d been considering: The Fusion four bladed behemoth and the Gillette Mach 3. The Mach 3 has been around longer and I know a great many people who swear by it, but then again the Fusion is the latest technology with that fourth blade and being a guy, I’m all about useless but new shit. But one look at the cost of refill blades for the fusion and I was on my way to the check out counter with my new Mach 3 Turbo. Fusion refill blades are twenty-five dollars a pop, and I’m sorry but for that price it had best give me a hand job while I’m shaving- or at least tell me my face is the best it’s ever shaved.
So now I’m the proud owner of a Gillette razor, which while it’s all nice and cool… just doesn’t feel right in my hand. Sure it gave me the smoothest, most effortless shave of my fourteen years of shaving… it still isn’t my Tracer FX.
Here’s some Edge gel for me, and some for my fallen homie: I miss you bro.