“Excuse me, sir.” It was a Metromart greeter, a kindly-looking old man.

“Yes?” I said.

“I was wondering if I could see a receipt for that haircut, son,” he continued in a grandfatherly tone, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“What?

“It doesn’t look like that’s the haircut you came in with, son, that’s all,” said the greeter. “Been losing a lot of money to shoplifters lately. Shrinkage, they call it. I’d just like to see a receipt so we know you’re not walking off with a Metromart haircut, that’s all.”

I’d been given a receipt for my $14 Walk-In Special at Metromart Clipzz in the back of the store, but had immediately ditched it. “I threw it out,” I said, incredulous that I was even being asked.

“Well, then, I’m afraid I’m going to have to invoke the shopkeeper’s privilege and detain you for a bit, son,” said the old man. He raised a walkie-talkie. “We need Vega Section to the grocery-side entrance for a suspected shrinker. I repeat, we need Vega Section to the rocery-side entrance for a suspected shrinker.”

“Wait!” I cried as the heavily armed and armored security guards in Metromart livery dragged me away. “How can someone shoplift a haircut?”

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