Shaver Me Timbers
How many people do you know that cut themselves while shaving? Numerous, I’m sure. Ever since the male of our species decided to throw the bearded look out of popular mainstream, gallons of gratuitous blood has been spilled in the ungainly pursuit of the clean-shaven chin. So it is quite inevitable that “people who cut themselves while shaving” is not an altogether unfamiliar group. If such a group ever forms, it is conceivable that you may find eligible candidates within your very family.
But I am reasonably certain that if someone were to ask you,”Hey, do you happen to know somebody who cut his NOSE while shaving?”, you may probably have to shirk away, regretfully answering in the negative; or perhaps changing the subject to more pleasant topics, such as the weather. Conceivably, you may have nightmares about such a question within a social gathering. One can only talk about the weather for so long. You may think it’s a lost cause, feeling that you may never find somebody stupid enough to cut his nose while shaving.
The next time somebody asks you such a question (though God knows why he/she would), raise your head up high with pride (or bow in shame, as the situation calls for), and reply in the affirmative. Because, my dear, you do indeed know somebody who fits the bill.
On the beautiful and serene Christmas eve of the year 2004, I, Hamish Joy, did indeed cut my ruddy nose while embarking on the honorable quest of looking less baleful. I seem to be on the continuous and fiercely relentless pursuit on perfecting the fading art of stupidity. On first glance, my characterizing stupidity as an art form may seem stupid to you. But then I would have to tell you that you are right.
This is what happens when you try to indulge in several activities at the same time. When I am at home, I invariably try to shove in more stuff into my daily agenda than the industry standard, whatever that is. At the time of this particular incident, I was multitasking again. I was shaving the small forest that had grown right under my nose. And I was listening to rock music in high volume, something which I indulge in when my house, and preferably the neighboring houses, are empty. I was also perusing through a letter sent by an old colleague, who, by the way, I am NOT blaming at all for the outcome of this incident. I was also half asleep. At this point, when my brother popped the door open, shattering the illusion that I was alone at home, I made a small jump.
Admittedly, the jump was in no means harmful by itself. And I dare say you could have jumped twice as high without injury, and shrugged the whole feat off as unremarkable. But if you had been holding a weapon of polished finesse wedged in between your trusty shaving kit, all ready and poised inches from your face, you may have done what I did. You may have cut your nose. Well, then again, maybe not. You do not get to that level of imbecility without constant practice. I have since made hasty and precipitant inquiries within my immediate acquaintances and concluded with misplaced pride that nobody has done this feat. At least not my immediate circle of friends. Most of my friends, yourself included, are the high-standards type who have long since set a limit to stupidity and immaturity.
One of the few things I like about myself is being unique; in doing things differently. So from that viewpoint, I guess I should be thrilled. Cutting one’s nose while shaving is indeed not a well-explored field. But there is some part of me that feels like maybe, just maybe, I ought to be feeling ashamed about all this. Hmm… That needs thinking about. I’ll just be cutting this letter short for now, coz I have to brood about that right now. If I don’t brood now, I may brood tomorrow morning, while shaving!