I went to buy an electric razor on errrm Friday? Yes, Friday. I deplore the things in general, always been a wetshave bloke, right from when I first had to scrape off the bumfluff all those years back. And it is a few years now. But given my poor motor coordination now (BIG SHOUT to the Radiology Department  at Addenbrookes! Cheers guys!) working with an open blade close to my neck and face has become increasingly risky. I actually like wetshaving, it can be very Zen, much more pleasing than the purpose driven ‘Scrtch scrtch’ of a lecky razor. But needs must when the devil drives. I’m a risk to myself with a wet razor and shocking lack of coordination.

Also, and this makes no sense at all, wetshaves in a hotel (and I have been here since very early March to be near the hospital)  are, for some reason, curiously unsatisfying. They are no longer a sensory delight, they become a chore.

Anyway, I decided to go down the techie route, and wandered into John Lewis, a store of which I have always been fond, because of the business model where it is actually owned by the people who work there. The service is hence first rate, because the staff want their bonuses, as indeed they should.

I found somebody who looked as if he could be helpful, in the right approximate area of the store. That wasn’t as easy as it might have been. The Cambridge store has a very idiosyncratic layout. Very eccentric indeed.

‘May I help you, sir?’ Lewis’s staff are invariably polite. You never find one who gives you the impression they’re doing you a BIG FAVOUR by actually noticing you exist. They’re great.

‘I hope so. I want to buy an electric razor.’

‘Is that a razor or a beard groomer?’

I gave him an old-fashioned look.

‘Do I look like a man at all interested in beard grooming?’

He laughed out loud at that. ‘No, not really. So you want a razor? Something to get the hair off your face.’

‘You’ve nailed that.’

‘Well here we go, smooth as a baby’s bum, and it won’t break the bank. Twenty five quid will cover it.’


‘It does have a trimmer setting too….’

‘Don’t spoil it now. You’ve done so well.’

He laughed at that too. I liked this man.

It’s pretty good, though not perfect, my new razor. But I can do the tidying up with a proper wet shave without the real risk of a carotid bleedout. That has to be a positive, surely?