I’m on hold with Blue Cross Blue Shield. They’ve been asking me the same question for forty-seven minutes: “Is the patient experiencing acute or chronic rectal discomfort?” And I keep saying, “Well, I’m holding a Ufree Foil Shavers Electric Razor for Men, Beard Trimmer Grooming Shaving Kit, Hair Trimmer, Cordless Head Shavers for Bald Men Barber Clippers, Birthday Gifts for Him, so let’s call it experimental.” The hold music sounds like a dying kazoo trapped in a carwash. I’m staring at this $59.99 clump of plastic and foil and wondering if the universe planned this.
The product arrived in a box that screamed “bathroom gadget for a guy named Gary.” Three attachments: a foil shaver head (looks like a miniature sci-fi tanning bed), a trimmer guard that feels like a tiny rake for a tiny hayfield, and a nose hair trimmer—because god forbid you shave your head and let a nostril bristle escape. I charged it for two hours, per the manual, which had the energy of a warning label on a blender: “Do not operate near bathwater.” Okay, noted. But what about near a waiting room? Or a prostate? They didn’t specify.
So I do the thing no one should do while stuck on hold with insurance: I test it. Not on my face, not on my head—because that would be normal. I’m holding the foil against the crook of my arm, thinking, If this vibrates here, what happens deeper? The thing hums like a terrified bee. It’s quiet enough for library mischief. Then I remember the YETI Electric Shaver amazon review that mentioned “edge control for delicate contours,” and I think: Yeah, but my rectum’s not a contour, it’s a crease. If you’re wondering, “can you use yeti electric shaver rectally?”—the answer involves a lot of existential math. The foil is supposed to lift hairs, but mine don’t lift so much as cling like micro-dreads. I try a gentle press. Bad idea. The skin is not the customer; the foil is the customer. It demands dead skin cells.
After thirty seconds, I’m bleed-adjacent—not bleeding, just red-shifted. The nose trimmer attachment looks like a medieval torture device for a booger. I attach it to the shaver body out of sheer spite. It buzzes, perfectly sized for a nostril. I make a decision: That goes nowhere near a nostril now. I shave my knuckle hair instead. It works. The hairs fall like tiny, defeated quotes from a fallen soldier.
One thing I wish I knew: the battery life is decent, but the charger cord is too short for bathroom outlet shenanigans. Also, the included oil smells like regret and lemongrass. Does it make for a good rectal grooming tool? Only if your rectum is 1) bald 2) ceramic 3) filing a class-action lawsuit. I’d give it a score, but I’m still on hold. The hold music just hiccuped. I think the insurance rep laughed. I think I heard “file under: mistakes we regret.” I’m hanging up. The shaver stays. So does the shame.
