The Ultimate Shave
Saturday, April 04, 2009
If there were ever an acceptable time to use the words "man" and "pamper" in the same phrase this would be it. I went to The New York Shaving Company and got "The Ultimate Shave". Right about now I imagine that something involving abnormal super human powers and a cape is going through your mind and while there was a cape there was nothing, abnormal about it. It was the best shave I have ever had, for those of you using an electric shaver this is your call for repentance and reform! It starts off with Mike the Master Barber placing you in a barber's chair that completely reclines into a comfortable lying position. After which he tactfully examines every inch of my patchy barely post adolescent, 3 days of unshaveness excuse for a beard. After which a hot towel which caries the aroma of sandalwood is wrapped tightly around your head carefully places so as to provide ample oxygen while fighting the effects of gravity upon ones goiter. Then off comes the towel and a long silver blade is brandished as you hear each pathetic hair screaming for mercy as it is sluffed off and swiftly wiped on a towel around your collar. Then a second towel, and another round of nerves of steel that aptly control a blade that in other less qualified hands could be deemed a hazard to ones health.
If you are able to keep still and not lose confidence in the Master Barber, surviving the masterful pass of each blade your reward is a facial battery of fingers. I would not use the word "massage" to describe the experience because it is associated with relaxation and calmness...there was none of that this is a testosterone only environment. I think that the purpose of the post shave finger battery was to pull blood back to the surface as it had assuredly receded from my face for fear of being sprung loose from one major artery or another. There were a couple of times that my whole face was sprayed with a mist of the same sandalwood smelling concoction that caused my face to tingle but surprisingly did not sting my eyes. With a firm handshake and a thankful grin the experience ended and I strut forth out of the store with an affirmed sense of why men grow beards and why we exist on this planet, if for no other reason than to say that we had been pampered and not feel ashamed of it.
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