Some jobs are just made for two people
As I began my ritualistic washing, I looked over and saw hair growing on my shoulders.
Hair. On my shoulders.
It seems to be some warped right of passage that as one grows older, hair begins to appear in places usually reserved for smooth skin. My mind goes instantly to that older man I was chatting with some time ago who seemed to have a great deal of hair growing inside his head as it was leaking out his ears and nose in an escaping, “I"ve got to get out of here,”? way.
Yet, there it was, just sitting there on top of my shoulders.
Mind you, it wasn"t a great forest of hair, like my Greek friend who ran a restaurant and had to shave his face to be able to cook there properly. When he wore a shirt with the buttons opened to his chest you could see where his hairline was. You know, the place at the bottom of his neck where he stopped shaving his face cause it turned into his chest, and that"s where his hairline started. It wasn"t hairy like that on my shoulders.
So I looked in the mirror and saw the beginnings of a hair thing going on on my back too. I"d never noticed this before, mainly because I never get a good look back there. But there it was, a fertile field of hair growth.
I continued washing, thinking what could be done with such a problem.
It was right about then that I saw my razor there in the corner, and I had an idea. I could just take off a bit of the crop from the top of my shoulders, no problem.
So I got some soap lathered up, and went to town. First this side, then that side. Then I wanted to even it up so I went back to this side, and back and forth I went.
The hair came off nicely, but my shaving strokes seemed to reach deeper onto my back, so that I could at least be even with my hair line.
This continued on until I was reaching as far down my back as possible with my right hand over my left shoulder and my left hand over my right shoulder. I couldn"t seem to reach beyond that, but the problem seemed to be taken care of. I could see no more hair on my shoulders or even when I looked down my back, on either side.
“Problem solved,”? I thought. So I shut off the water and dried off a bit.
No more looking at hair on my shoulders and nothing but smooth skin baby.
Then I turned around and caught a look at my back in the big mirror.
And, yeah, like I said, in my defense it had been a long day.
On my back there was a nicely shaped arrow of hair, pointing to my head.
Really smooth where I had been able to reach, but yeah, nice hair arrow.
Sigh. Good thing it's -27C out there and I won"t be going swimming anytime soon.