The Perils of Shaving at Work

I hate shaving.  I usually do it at work because I don’t like wasting my time at home doing something I hate, so I drag my electric razor in to work once or twice a week and just do the deed there.  I try and wait till nobody is in the bathroom, but occasionally somebody walks in on me and this usually leads to curious looks as they walk past me shaving in front of the mirror.  I usually mumble something about not having time that morning to shave at home and that’s that.

So recently I was in the bathroom shaving and a co-worker Lenny walked in, peed, came back to wash his hands and he was looking at me with raised eyebrows.  Going along with the usual routine, I turned off my razor and told him that I did not have time to shave that morning so I am taking care of it at work.

Then he says to me:  “Did you get a plate?”

I figured I misheard him so I said:  “What?”

“Did you get a plate?”

“What??”

Slowly now:  “Did  you  get  a  plate?”

I am now completely baffled and have no idea where to go with this.  A plate?  Why would I need a plate to shave?  He is staring at me and my mind is desperately searching for an answer to what the hell he is talking about.  A plate to put the shaving cream on?  It’s an electric razor so I don’t need any shaving cream.  A plate for lunch?  Lunch isn’t for a couple more hours and what does that have to do with shaving?  I am at a complete loss and he is waiting for an answer, so I finally ask:  “A plate?  Did I get a plate for what?!”

I can tell he is completely exasperated by now too as he blurts out:  “For WORK!  Did you get a plate for WORK?!”

“A plate for work?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know, why would I get a plate for work?!”

How long can this go on?  I want to be anywhere on the planet but in this bathroom right now.  Lenny is kind of old, but maybe he is senile too?  We are both just standing there staring at each other.  He is done drying his hands and he’s glaring at me like he’s trying to figure out what my game is.  I have no game.  I just want this to end but I don’t know how.  Fortunately he has had enough too so he just brushes past me and walks out.  Suddenly the light bulb goes on and it dawns on me what he said:  “Did you get up late?”

I ran out of the bathroom and yelled down the hallway:  “Lenny!  Up late!  Yes!  I got up late!”  But he just ignored me and kept on walking…he’ll probably never talk to me again.