He opened the cabinet above the sink for the nth time that week and eyed it with uncertainty. Should he? He peered into the mirror and shook his head. No. Not really. It wasn't time yet. What was wrong with him the way he was? He quite liked what he saw in the mirror. It took him ages to get this kind of rough weather-beaten grunge look. He felt he looked rather debonair. Well actually, he had assumed that this was exactly what made him stand out and get the much aspired for attention of the chicks in general. So now, why did she want him to do this?
His cell phone beeped. Yet again, it was her checking on him if their date was still on.
“Yes, tomorrow at 10, at that place,”
he texted her.
“I hope I get to see you the way I wish to!”
she texted back with a string of emoticons causing another flutter of dilemma within him.
Well, it wasn't about not wanting to please her. Who would not want to? She was a prized catch. Her lustrous pony tails cascading over her tunic distracted quite a lot of men in their grade. It had taken him a full semester to woo her. Although, undeniably, he did have the right tricks up his sleeve to get things going for him. It did not take him much to figure out that she loved chocolate chip cookies. He just had to pass them across the desk to get that extra special smile and a shy thank you from her, every time he did that. A few dozen cookies later, they got talking beyond the cookies. Not that the other guys did not try. They did try the cookie trick with her once they noticed what was happening. But apparently they had no clue on the kind of cookies he was treating her to. They were his mum’s special home-made cookies and those were a league apart. That’s what set him apart from the other boys and their sub-standard packed stale cookies. And of course, his rough and manly looks. That’s what he thought had made it's mark, till the time he asked her out. She agreed but on a condition. He would have to shave clean when they met. A prospect that was both, least expected and difficult to decide on.
They agreed on the date, 10 am, as soon as it gonged for the first recess, behind the school playground over a Tiffin box full of chocolate chip cookies. He couldn't possibly mess up his first date, could he? But heck...how was he to use his dad’s damn razor? He hadn't ever lifted one, leave alone shave with it. It looked sharp. And scary. What if he ended up cutting himself?! And what was he to tell his parents when they saw him clean shaven? Well, that could be taken care of, he would put it on peer group pressure. So there he went, gingerly smearing the shaving foam on his cheeks, the way he had seen his dad doing it every morning and swept a patch clean with a careful stroke of the razor blade. “Umm...not bad at all…”
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‘This post is a part of #WillYouShave activity at BlogAdda in association with Gillette”