Yes dear reader, I’m milking the beard thing for it’s worth, while awaiting Servetus’s final beard posts. Then I’ll be forced to be thoughtful and erudite. Until that time, on with the shallow!
I based yesterday’s post on a realization learned many years ago in another fandom. This story isn’t part of the “Why RA?” series, per se, but it does involve Mr. Crush #2. Way before Mr. Crush’s fan club imploded, he was our British darling, “the thinking woman’s crumpet.” In his heyday, he possessed an ethereal beauty much more feminine than RA’s. (While still a handsome man, that beauty faded with loss of youth). Needless to say, the club appreciated his outer gifts. A member sacrificed hours to compile a “Best of” video (told you this was long ago) from Mr. Crush’s work to show at an open-door fan club party during a big convention. The video contained a bathroom scene in which his character reclined in a big claw-footed tub. The scene focused on him quietly shaving and gazing into a small hand held mirror.
The video played in a loop as background noise during the party. However, when that scene appeared, all the females in the room fell silent and watched each stroke of the blade, spellbound. Truly, the slow action of his hand was almost hypnotic and terribly sexy. A lone male peeked in and saw all eyes glued on the screen. He stood in the back, baffled at all the “ohhhs” and “ahhs.”
“What’s going on?,” he asked.
We explained the video and that this was our favorite scene.
His eyes widened in amazement as various fangirls remarked how sexy and a turn-on it was.
His face lit up like he’d just been imparted a carefully guarded female secret.
“Didn’t know that did you,” somebody smirked.
“Hey, looks like I need to find my girlfriend and shave!,” he grinned, and then darted out.
I’ve regarded a man shaving as quite sensuous, ever since that time. I’d open the bathroom door while my ex shaved so I could watch. He’d laugh, part self-consciously and part lasciviously. He certainly didn’t object.
So, when I think of RA shaving his beard, well, can you blame me?