I do not refer so much to the actual process of being shaved.
Indeed there is something restful and soothing to the average male
adult in the feel of a sharp razor being guided over a bristly
jowl by a deft and skillful hand, to the accompaniment of a gentle
grating sound and followed by a sensation of transient silken
smoothness. Nor do I refer to the barber's habit of conversation.
After all, a barber is human--he has to talk to somebody, and it
might as well be you. If he didn't have you to talk to he'd have
to talk to another barber, and that would be no treat to him.
What I do refer to is that which precedes a shave and more
especially that which follows after it. You rush in for a shave.
In ten minutes you have an engagement to be married or something
else important, and you want a shave and you want it quick. Does
the barber take cognizance of the emergency? He does not. Such
would be contrary to the ethics of his calling. Knowing from
your own lips that you want a shave and that's positively all, he
nevertheless is instantly filled with a burning desire to equip
you with a large number of other things.
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