Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam

Essential thinking for reading Catholics.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

There will be blood.

One of the cool things about the Internet is that you sometimes get to reconnect with pals from long-ago.

A friend from my undergraduate days found my stellar wine columns (by that I mean the columns I wrote on wine, not that I have some sort of of vinuous architectural features) and got in touch. Said ol' pal o' mine is now the Editor-in-Chief for a midsize automotive magazine.

Anyway, there was a classic car show happening down here and he asked me, Paid Writer that I am, to cover it for him. Seeing as how this show promised to be pretty posh stuff, I said sure. Tonight was the first event: "The hangar party."

With my journalistic skills -- envy me, what's left of The New York Tass Times! -- I was able to piece together that many people who were attending this show would be arriving via private jet and, at the private airport where these private jets would land, there would be a "Hey! Welcome!" shindig to show appreciation for affluent folks.

So, I went off to shower. Seeing as how there was a strong chance this would be a very upmarket sort of thing, I decided to shave. This'd be above and beyond any morning shavery. Now, being the hurried sort, I decided to shave in the shower, forsaking my usual cutthroat razor regimen. Foolishly, I decided to use one of those Gillette Mach Pi razors*.

I shaved quickly and emerged. I toweled my frame dry only to notice no small amount of vivid red upon the cotton loops of my fave towel draped in a manly way around my waist. I looked in the mirror and, to my chagrin, it looked as if I were clad in a bright scarlet toga.
I had nicked a particularly juicy capillary and it was bleeding quite freely with NO stanching it. It was bizarre to behold: the "wound" was maybe 1mm long. After two towels, some bathroom tissue applied to my neck (home of the nick in question) with manly pressure, I was able to swab it with some coagulant/liquid bandage thing.

The irony is that in all my years shaving with a straight razor or similarly antiquated gear, I have never so much as gotten razor burn, let alone losing a half-pint of my blood.


P.S. The car thing tonight proved to be more bling-bling than sophisticatedly posh. Most of the women there looked like Adult Film Stars who had just recently retired because they'd gotten a better offer from men with artificial hair and 3ct. diamond earrings. Lots of silicone implants, facial "work" and 6"(15cm) heels. And more Lamborghinis than at the VH1 Hip-hop Awards.

* Yes, there is coarse language at this link. You've been warned.


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