Date: SEPT 18, 2008
Goal: Shaving in a foreign city
I am 43, used to trimming willie nelson when it gets too close to the knee caps in all sort of locations and time zones, so the whole affair should have been nothing but a ‘zoom zoom and voila’. Right? Welllll …..
Frolicking about Europe requires a unique approach to electric appliances. First and foremost, the current is different … so any items from the US requiring some sort of jolts to get going are of no use unless a converter is used. Rather than packing US appliances (beaver shavers in this case), I left them behind in some garbage dump and purchased a solid ‘manly’ one here.
Secondly, forgoing dainty ones since I despise pink (which seems to be the only color available), my newly acquired manly buzzer sits a bit funkily in my palm, my fingers not as nimble around the masculine handle, but ok I think, I know how to manipulate a silicone pleasure rod, THIS thing should not require a scientific application of usage.
Here also, in the midst of Prague city, the older apartments separate the actual toilet room from the bathroom, and I was faced with a choice … dare to meet willie nelson head on in the small room spouting the porcelain dish designed to carry my bodily wastes to places unknown, or the more roomy Jacuzzi spouting steamy place to get lost in.
I felt brave today, or rather lazy, and elected to go abuzzing in the smallest room in the place. I reasoned that if I use the toilet, I would have less to clean up in case hair flew everywhere.
Pants down around my ankles, one leg on the floor, one leg hiked and the sounds of electricity assaulted my ears as I slid the ‘on’ button to .. on.
My grip on this vibrating domalagiger was firm, my head bent to see where I was going to start, as my freshly washed and long hair fanned around me. With care, since I had yet to assess the strength of this moving object in my hand, I angled in for the kill when fate elected to intervene, the hair on my head apparently being longer than willie nelson and both the buzzer and may fanning hair elected to dance to a tune I certainly did not hear, or appreciate.
Forgotten was willie nelson, pushed aside was my haphazard attempt at a safe stance as the toilet hoped to swallow me whole. I winded up on the floor, a few hairs shorter on my head, willie nelson exposed to the world, saying small thank you’s that my door was closed so my two puppies whining at the door could not come to sniff out the issue.
I was able to get up, pull up my pants and open the door to reassure them I was fine, but I came to the conclusion that meeting willie nelson in a small room was not the way to go in the future and perhaps cleaning up a bigger room after mowing fields would be in my best physical interest.
With love, and with a few missing hairs, from Prague.