Rich had been cutting my hair for about a year. It took a week to get an appointment but he was the best. His one man shop had the usual waiting room and the usual magazines — Playboy, Argosy, Field & Stream.
It also had Gentlemen’s Quarterly and Architectural Digest — both mandatory publications for a Yuppie establishment. A month earlier I thought I had seen a copy of DRUMMER half tucked beneath the towels beside his barber chair, but decided I’d been wrong.
Rich said little. His lean handsome body filled his snug slightly worn 501s. His crotch showed a distinct bulge while he pivoted around the barber chair, just what you’d expect from a tight guy with a whopping honker. I had a tough time not getting caught as my eyes followed its reflection in the mirror. Sometimes, I thought his bulge grew the more I watched. His leather jacket