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Adam by Ratt

Last week I went to the grocery store eight times. It wasn't that I really needed groceries, but I kept finding things to buy. Why this sudden addiction to grocery shopping? It was all because of the boy that worked the express aisle. He was lovely. About five and a half feet tall, lightly built, with angelic features. His thick strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that reached to the middle of his shoulder blades. The hair was well cared-for, always clean and with a lot of body. The ends curled slightly and bounded when he moved his head. My goal was to strike up a rapport with him and perhaps he would let me give him a haircut.

On Friday, as he gave me my change, I got up the courage to speak to him.

"You know, you've really got beautiful eyes," I said.

"Thanks," the boy muttered.

"I think if you got a short haircut, it would really make your eyes stand out."

He laughed nervously. "No, I don't think so."

"Okay. Just a suggestion." I took out one of my business cards. "If you change your mind, here's the card for my barbershop. Oh, but I won't be in the shop this weekend, so use this number if you want to reach me before Monday."

The boy didn't say anything. I picked up my ham sandwich and my bottle of water and left.

On Saturday night, I set on my couch, eating popcorn and watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 in my pajamas. I was quite startled to hear the doorbell ring.

"Just a minute!" I called. I ejected the tape and hid the popcorn bowl. I was annoyed, expecting it was someone selling magazine subscriptions or offering an estimate to have my house painted.

Instead, it was the boy from the grocery store.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"Phone book," he said timidly. "I hope I didn't wake you." He had noticed my pajamas.

"No, not at all, come on in."

We made proper introductions. His name was Adam.

"I was thinking about what you were saying, about my getting a haircut," he said. "Truthfully, I've been thinking of going a bit shorter, and…" He looked at the floor. "This girl I've been seeing broke it off, and she's already seeing another man. A bald man!" he added disdainfully. "Sorry to hear that," I said. "If you don't mind, I'm going to put on some proper clothes and get my clippers ready."

Adam winced at the mention of clippers. I wonder if he'd ever had a real haircut.

"If you don't mind, do you think you could just take a few inches off the length? I don't want anything to drastic."

"I'll see what I can do."

I went to change clothes and came back with the metal box that held all my haircutting supplies.

"Have a seat in one of my kitchen chairs," I said. Adam obeyed. I unfurled my nylon cape and draped it across his seated figure. I laughed to myself - the poor boy was trembling! I took the elastic out of his ponytail and combed the mass of golden silk. His hair smelled nice. "This will look great when I'm done," I commented.

He misinterpreted. "Thanks," he said. "Everyone tells me I have great hair." He turned around to face me. "Remember, just a few inches."

Right. No clippers yet, I thought. I picked up my shears and separated out a large handful of his forelock. With a swift motion I cut it down to the scalp. Part of the cut patch was so close to the skin that even a short buzzcut wouldn't even it out completely.

I dangled the severed lock in front of Adam's frightened face. "Is this too much?" I asked. "Oh my god!" he said. "What did you do?"

"Relax. I'll even it out and it will look great." Out came the clippers. "Sorry, but I have to use these. Don't worry, they don't hurt." I ran them over the spot I had already cut, sending a spray of tiny bristles into the air. I stroked the clipped patch with my finger. It felt like fine velvet. Poor Adam looked ready to faint.

Slowly, methodically, I sheared off the rest of his long hair. The top was the first to be bared, then the back and sides until his entire scalp was covered with the soft velvet. He was crying. I rubbed his cropped head in an attempt to comfort him.

"We're almost done," I said.

Suddenly he whipped around and fixed me with a wild stare. "You twisted bitch!" he spat. "This is rape! Let me up, I'm calling the cops."

I looked hurt. "Don't I get to finish?"

He sank back down into the chair, sobbing heavily. "Fine," he said.

At the front of his head was an uneven spot in the velvet, where the scissors had bitten into his hair. I adjusted the clipper blade and ran them over his head again, taking off a barely-noticeable length of hair and leaving the velvet even shorter. But the divot still showed, looking like a dent in his skull.

"I'll be right back," I said, stroking his head gently. I retreated into the bathroom and returned with shaving cream, a Mach 3 and a wet towel. I microwaved the towel to warm it up, then wrapped it around Adam's clipped head.

"Does that feel all right?" I asked softly.

He nodded. Tears still rolled down his handsome face. I massaged his head through the towel, then took it away and began to lather his head. He shivered as the warmth of the towel was replaced with cool shaving cream. Then I picked up my Mach 3 and began to shave his head. Once I had scraped every inch of his perfectly-shaped head, I lathered and shaved it again to make sure his entire scalp was completely smooth, bare and wonderful. After I wiped away the excess lather, I sprinkled some baby oil on my fingertipes and gave him a deep massage on his head, neck and shoulders. His head shone beautifully like polished marble.

"All finished," I said. "For what it's worth, I think you look awesome. And don't worry, your hair will grow back exactly the same it was before." If we let it, I added silently.

Adam stood up and wiped his tearful eyes. "Don't think you'll get away with this," he said. "I will be calling the authorities. You took advantage of me, you sick freak."

He marched out the door. "You're welcome," I called after him.

As I set to work cleaning up the mess of hair, I couldn't help feeling bad. Adam had trusted me and I had violated him. But, I reassured myself, not every cut can be an overwhelming success. And besides, his lovely hair would grow back in a matter of months.

I stayed away from the grocery store this week, still feeling guilty about Adam. But today I had to go back. I was nearly out of food. I half-expected Adam wouldn't be there. And if he was, I imagined he'd have a week's worth of stubble on his head, desperately imaptient for his hair to grow back.

He was there, but at a glance I could tell my predicition was incorrect. His head was still smooth and glossy. It looked well-maintained, and he seemed perfectly at ease with his sexy new look.

I approached the counter warily.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi Adam. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I noticed you've kept your head shaved. I hope you don't feel like you have to."

"No, I think I'm going to keep this for a while." He rubbed his smooth head. "It's just as much work as the long hair was, but everyone's told me how great it looks. You were right that short hair - or in this case no hair - would make my eyes stand out." True, his beautiful blue eyes with their long, flirty lashes, were no longer partly obscured.

"Anyway I'm sorry I lost my temper," he said.

"No problem," I said. "I was a little too quick to cut off all your hair. And listen - tomorrow night, if you can stand to wait that long, I'll treat you to another of my famous shaves."

Adam smiled. He looked so gorgeous. "It's a date," he said.

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