Hair of the dog…or in my case, the arm

With the exception of my head, I’m a hairy guy. My arms, my legs, and especially my chest. Many years ago I’ve shaved my chest. It hurt. It itched. For a long while. I learned my lesson. Or so I thought.

While shaving my head last week, I was admiring how tight it looked – no stray hairs sticking up – everything nice and neat. Then I noticed my arms. Stray hairs all over the place. Creepy long hairs. Ingrown hairs. It didn’t look good.

Clippers in hand, I decided I would use the ‘blending’ guide on my arms. This way, the clippers would not come into direct contact with my skin. It’ll look good I told myself. Trim and neat.

After the first few passes, a nagging thought entered my mind. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Hair is masculine, maybe I should keep it. I perservered. I clipped and I buzzed and I watched the hair pile up on the floor. When I was done I was shocked. I looked like a naked baby. And my arms were really irritated. They still are – a week later – and the hair is almost grown back.

I guess this is one experiment that will not be repeated…