fr. I Will Unfold You With My Hairy Hands by Shane Jones      The hair monster checked out the ass of a handicapped woman. She was standing with her back turned when the hair monster noticed her panty line against her white tights and thought, hey hey hey. He was a typically lonely hair monster and often looked at women trying to imagine what it would feel like to caress their human skin. He kept watching her as she walked away. And that's when he noticed her hands balled up against her chest, her chin tucked down and rubbing against her knuckles as she shuffled her feet. The hair monster looked away, feeling ashamed, questioning just what kind of hair monster he really was. His mother had raised him better.      The handicapped woman's name was Stacey, and although she saw the hair monster check her out, and kind of liked the attention, she told the rest of her handicapped friends, who happened to all be guys who were secretly in love with her. They now hated the hair monster. They loved Stacey even more.      The hair monster couldn't stop thinking about Stacey. His mother hadn't raised him better. He went back to the music store everyday hoping to see her again. He spent his afternoons waiting at the listening station where he had first checked her out. He listened to Neil Young a lot, his short little hair body bouncing up and down during the fast songs, his hairy head hung low during the slow ones. The song "A Man Needs A Maid" always made the hair monster cry. The wiry hair under his eyes became wet and matted like strips of hay left out in the rain.      A week later Stacey went to the music store with her four guy friends who decided to sit in the cafe and drink cappuccinos.      The hair monster saw Stacey at a listening station and he patted the hair on his head and pressed the hair on his neck down.      "Hello," he said, approaching her at the listening station. "It's nice to meet you." { airforce joyride }