Last year (or so), I was shaving my legs with a razor that was less than desirable, (we all know I'm cheap) and I got razor burn. So as I was applying Tim's aftershave I was contemplating exactly how badly I would smell like a man, and I noticed there was a 1-800 number on the back. Now the key is that it said questions and comments right before the number. Now, I always have a comment, so I called.
A man answered the phone. He had a young enthusiastic voice and asked How he could help. I made my disclaimer 'the bottle asked for comments' and continued, 'I would really like to have an aftershave for women.' There was a long pause. 'An aftershave for women.?.' I could hear his brow furl with a questioning confusion while stifling a laugh. I picked up the enthusiasm. 'yes! an aftershave for girls!' The request was made and not to long after that I found a new product. After shave gel for women! Wow, what service! (OK so I have no idea if it is the same company)
I picked some up, Raspberry flavor. I know now, for sure, that the world is run by men. The stuff is drissly and goopy, and when you squeeze the bottle you end up with enough gel to rub into about 8 legs, further more the raspberry smell really intrigues the dog so she follows me around to get a taste. This was not my idea at all.
I am wondering if I am the only one who bears this burden. Or maybe if I am the only one who is stupid enough to get in the shower without thinking about how old the razor is. Surely there is another one of 'Me' who has procrastinated to the last minute to get the house ready for the evening party, barely got the food out of the oven, with 15 min to spare , covered in flour rushes to the shower and realizes her pants are stuffed in the laundry, It will have to be a dress tonight. 'Oh no! the razor! I don't suppose a little rust will hurt.' Was that the doorbell?! It won't be too bad, she thinks as she brushes her teeth with one hand and shaves with the other. Leaping out out the shower to put her hair in a sleek bun to save a blow dry she realizes, as she squeezes into her 'suck-um-up' pantyhose, that yes, she could very well be getting her Tetanus booster in the morning. Searching frantically for something to treat it with She realizes that it will have to take a backseat to the guests who are now very much arriving and the little voice calling "Mommy, Spot likes chocolate too!"
By the way if this ever becomes a commercial, I am claiming rights.
