Lousy Razor.

September 9, 2008

So I'm at Wal-Mart at 3:00 AM in the morning, and this incredibly wrinkled old lady is staring at my junk.

Wait, let me back up a bit.

This all started when I went to finally shave my horrible overgrowth, and stop looking like a cave man once and for all. Or at least for a day or so. The idea there was, perhaps if I at least looked like I cared about anything, perhaps the notion would be a bit contagious. Or something. So I start hacking away at the horrible tangle on my neck and... krapow!

My razor died. And you know, it waited until I had trimmed away exactly half of the thicket I needed to shave. And the most irritating thing is, this isn't the first time this has happened to me, either. So there I am, needing to wake up in five hours for work (yeah, my 'get my sleep sorted out' thing is still a work in progress) and I have half a jungle on my face.

Just like the last time this happened, I had to go to the one place you'd find open at that time of morning, which happened to be Wal-Mart, to get a new one. Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I loathe that place, what with its creepy employee policies, predatory pricing, and everything else. But hey, at 3:00 AM when you need a new electric razor, what are you gonna do?

Of course once I got there, I kind of gained an appreciation for why the company treats the people there like dirt. It's like those 'mall mutants' that clean up at food courts, Wal-Mart's night shift attracts a certain type of worker. Like the 80 year old Asian lady who, upon walking up to me and saying HI! looked down and planted her eyes on my junk.

Being the generally self-conscious sort, I panicked for a minute. I mean, did I pee my pants and not realize it? Or did i drop something on my pants earlier that looks amusingly inappropriate? So I look down and no, I am not hanging out of my shorts, uh, again. Nor am I stained. So I look back up at her and she's still staring. So at a lack for any other amusing response, I just nod and say HEY.

Which seems to be my universal 'she's looking at my bits and I can't think of anything to say. Think, damnit, think! Ah, to heck with it' reply. I've had to do this one other time in my life, but then I was actually naked at the time. This was, of course, at 24 Hour Fitness, whilst I was toweling myself off after a shower during one of the then-grueling workouts I used to do.

Still working back up to that, too, but that's a different story. But here I am, drying my business off and I hear someone coming around from the locker room's pool entrance, and it's this... girl. Drunk off her ass, and looking totally lost. Somehow she didn't drown in the pool or hot tub or whatever, and went to the locker room to change. Only in her stupor, I guess she picked mine.

And upon seeing me, did about the same thing the raisin mentioned above did.

At leat that time I managed a grin before I said Hey. Of course she ran away, which is you know, a testament of my manly man-ness and what-have-you. But what the heck am I supposed to do when this sort of thing happens? It's not like people ogle my junk when I want them to these days so... I guess I'm out of practice. Or just don't realize I'm being eyed up.

'Course, I work with a gang of apparently horny grandmothers, so who knows how much I've already been mentally undressed while being yelled at by the cops. Brr.

So I ultimately did find a razor, though I had to settle for the one I didn't want 'cause it was like the one I had until it self-destructed. One of those low-dollar Norelco ™ things. But what I really wanted was the BRAUN ™ thing I saw there, that they kept behind locked doors. I guess it uses a freakin' VIBRO BLADE to unhair your flesh. What the heck!?

firebomb@obnoxiousjerk.com