This isn’t the first feeling on this list that’s been pretty much an exclusive male sentiment. I can’t imagine women love getting their faces shaved in public. If they do, good for you. Enjoy yours, kid.
But, as a man that grows a beard often—more accurately put, as a man that doesn’t shave regularly and looks like he’s growing a beard but is really just too lazy to shave and then gets caught in that in between area where it’s not quite a beard and not quite stubble but he has to go to work so he shaves it into the beginnings of a beard just to keep appearances, even though he has no real intentions of keeping it much longer—there’s not much that beats the hot towel, the cooling sensation of the shaving cream and application therein and the actual shave with the single blade.
What’s safer than letting a stranger take a blade to your throat while you keep your head back and eyes closed? If you can think of it, let me know. Leave it in the comments, because for me that’s about as comfortable as it gets.
And, this says nothing of the fact that it’s almost always the closest and best shave you could ever imagine.
Feels great and looks great? Outside of Men’s Wearhouse, that’s impossible.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Watching the person giving you this shave dip the blade into that fucking blue liquid. Barbacide? Is that what it’s called when barber’s commit suicide? Or, more to the point, is that what it’s called when barber’s commit homicide via their tools?