Blogpost #1 in honor of Dr. Steven Bourquin

I’ll comment on this topic once, and then I’ll leave it to female admirers to write any further. Steven was a stunningly attractive man. Whenever I went places with him, all eyes were on us. By “us” of course, I mean “him,” but I could tell people were sometimes looking at me and thinking, “who is this guy that’s friends with this incredibly handsome man?”

Steven was a natural beauty, but he did invest quite a bit of time in polishing the final product that was so head-turning. All of those muscles didn’t grow themselves. Steve’s workout routine was legendary and a constant in his life. I don’t know whether you call these people hairdressers or stylists or something else, but whoever cut Steven’s hair was in his inner circle. I don’t know any of them by name, but here’s a shout out to them because they were an elite few and whenever he spoke of them it was in appreciative, hushed tones.

Finally, of course, he dressed to the nines. Whether it was slacks and a dress shirt or one of those skin-tight tops, his wardrobe was the icing on the cake.

In this regard, I am the anti-Steven. I make sure I apply deodorant every single day, but I typically rush out the door without looking in the mirror in disheveled clothing that usually, but not always, matches. I like to keep people guessing, or, I guess, scratching their heads.

In our love for each other we often teased “hard” and he would continually ride me about my appearance. Steven always had such striking facial hair and he regularly encouraged me to have a modern look. So, one weekend, when Amy was out of town, I yielded to his request and agreed to become the “victim” of his extreme makeover. He was so excited!

If you don’t know me, I’m mostly bald, so Steven didn’t have a lot to work with. I saw him getting ready, and I didn’t know so many goos and lotions existed, let alone the different types of razors for trimming various parts of my face. I didn’t shave for several days so he had something to work with. First he started by dyeing my head hair and facial hair. I will tell you that in the process, he caressed my head more lovingly than anyone ever has (sorry, Amy J).

Since my coloring is different from his, he went out and bought a dye just for me. After I’d written the first draft of this post, Amy reminded me that our good friend Dan Kenney had already blogged part of the story, so I’m going to borrow some of his best wording. “Off to the store Steven went to get ‘Just for Men’ beard and mustache kit. Well he might have mixed the degree of blackness a little on the heavy side. When Amy returned home, Eric’s head was shaved and he had a goatee that looked like it had been colored with a black magic marker.”

The whole process took a couple of hours, at least. To get to the end of the story, when he was done, I probably looked better than any day of my life (but Amy disagreed J). I know Steven was disappointed when I told him I couldn’t possibly invest the time necessary to maintain his creation on an ongoing basis, but we both realized that the world would be just fine if we left beauty in his department and not mine.

Image may contain: 1 person, smiling, sitting

 

 

 

 

 

 

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