Matthew Taylor

To save time in the morning I have taken to shaving in the shower. I am finding my new technique works well, except for one slight glitch. This morning as I was enjoying my steaming hot shower I realized I had left my shaving cream in the bathroom cabinet which would naturally necessitate me having to leap out of the shower, slop across the slippery tiled bathroom floor (risking life and limb) to retrieve the forgotten item.

I was about to make the leap when I noticed something at the end of the bath that stopped me dead in my watery tracks.    I am not the only person in my house hold who now shaves in the shower. My teenage daughter has recently started to shave her legs and there perched on the edge of the tub was a can of her very own leg shaving cream.  I reassured myself that even though the can was predominately  pink, covered in an array of fruits and exhibited a font that looked remarkably like the handwriting of Emily Bronte the contents inside would be the same as any regular male shaving cream.

I removed the top and squirted a dollop into the palm of my hand. I was taken aback by its bright pink color. I summoned up my courage and applied it to my stubble. The pinky substance unleashed a pungent fragrance that I assumed was a scientists admirable attempt at replicating the scent of fresh fruit.  The cream worked flawlessly and in no time the hair from my face found itself adhered to the high water mark of my bath tub.

All day I sensed that anybody who came within a seven foot radius of me did a double take, then paused while they obviously thought  to themselves, “Man that guy is smooth, and smells kind of fruity.”