My friend Ben used to shave my head for me. Yep, some years ago when I decided I liked the shorn look, he came over with a snazzy little electric razor, plugged it in and went to work, back and forth across my head. In seconds, I was hairless on top and delighted, if a little stunned at how quickly my locks had vanished. Ben visited to repeat the favour every few days, every time he noticed me sprouting fuzz. But every time, he had a different snazzy razor.
You have a collection of these? I asked Ben once as he ploughed my pate.
"Oh yeah," he said. "I'm nuts about the little gizmos."
I don't know anyone else who collects razors. Ben, he's like that.