Remember when they brought out 2 blade razors? That was a stroke of genius. Every man in the world must have tried it, and most stuck with it. Then they brought out 3 blade razors, and some men tried it, but most of us just thought, "come now, that is a bit ridiculous". Recently I was given - wait for it - a 5 blade razor. 5 blades? Really? REALLY? That is like putting 5 sugars into your coffee. Honestly, after the 3rd sugar it doesn't get any sweeter. The only shave that is closer with 5 blades is one with death. Seriously, the thing is as big as my ear. It is not a razor, it is a weapon. You should need a license to use it.

   But what I have always wanted to try is a shave, by another human, with one of those old-fashioned blades - the kind you can get at some barber shops. So today I had one. I'm a bit of a metrosexual: I've had a few manicures and pedicures (awesome, truly) and I had a facial once (didn't get the fuss). So this was in the same genre, just more butch. Because, of course, the risk is greater. You are putting your faith, trust and life in someone else's hands, literally. One little slip of that blade and it's blood squirting all over the place like a Tarantino Special. You have to sit very still. Which I did. And - I'm not just saying this to be macho - I actually wasn't as scared as I thought I might be.
   I also, sadly, wasn't as impressed as I thought I might be. I can appreciate that there is some skill in it, and it did have a kind of old-fashioned romance. But I don't think the shave was any closer than my 5 blade razor gives me, or even closer than my 2 blade razor gives me. I didn't particularly like the feel of the hot towels on my face or the smell of the shaving cream on my skin. I wish I did, but I didn't. I came, I saw, I left. And tomorrow the stubble will be back.