The Adventures of Johnny Carmichael Ch. 01

First of all, introductions should be in order. It's only polite. My name is Johnny Carmichael, if you couldn't already tell from the title. I am in my late 20's now, so this will start out as a bit of a memoir of how my adult life and career started. I am 6', in average shape, with platinum blonde hair, and blue eyes. If I did not have my boyish looks in my younger years, I doubt I would have developed the reputation I have today. They are starting to fade in my current years. Don't get me wrong, I don't look old by any means. I simply look more adult.

I graduated high school lost, like most in my class, as to what I wanted to do in life. I did not apply to any colleges as my grades clearly would not have made the cut. So off to junior college I went. After speaking with a career counselor, I signed up for general education classes until I could figure out what I wanted to do. One of the things I noticed my first year was the cosmetology building. Every time the students came out for a break I noticed they were 95% women, and very pretty ones at that. The 5%, at best, of the men sent my gay radar on fire. They clearly weren't manly men, even if they were straight. It didn't occur to me until my sophomore year to look into it myself. I looked up the career counselor I originally spoke with my freshman year and took a Myers-Briggs personality test. Sure enough cosmetology showed up as a career fitting my personality. I thought I hit the jackpot. I could not have been more correct.

Ironically, I got a haircut the weekend before classes started. Hey, I didn't know anybody yet to cut it and surely didn't have a clue myself. I did skip the barber and went to an actual hairstylist. She didn't think I was the type to go to a stylist, however, and asked why I was doing such of thing. Checkmate. I told her my story, leaving out my true intentions, and she was very encouraging, of course. She asked why I chose cosmetology. I had to think quick. I told her of the Myers-Briggs test I took. I had found my out. She still seemed a little suspicious of my reason but gratefully didn't pursue the matter further. She did an amazing job. I looked in the mirror and thought I needed to get a Dapper Dan equivalent pronto. She was very cute herself and was, therefore, easily able to talk me into buying some. There were multiple girls who gave me a second look as I went about my business that day before it ended.

The first day of class came way too fast, but I was ready. I grew a chin patch to set off my youthful looks. I was almost 20 after all. Without it I looked like a sophomore in high school instead of college. This impression was not happening. All black was the uniform; one I was all too happy to comply with. I wore a black collared shirt with French cuffs, black jeans and my black Doc Marten shoes. A spat of cologne completed the look. I second guessed myself as a modern day vampire when I looked in the mirror. My intentions were none the less sinister.

I walked into the classroom and it looked quite different than normal. It was much more like a lab, but with mannequin heads on the tables. It had a little bit of creepy to it. The room was brightly lit from halogen lights in the ceiling and a shiny hard rubber black floor. The bar height long tables had white tops to them with light stained wood laminate doors to the cabinets below. I could not believe what some of the girls brought. Some of them had to practically move in to their spot. All the students sat randomly as the teacher repeated her welcomes over and over. The girl who sat next to me initially turned and smiled at me as she introduced herself as Heather, but got very cold after she turned the other way. It was fine. I had plenty of time.

"Okay everyone find a seat only if you are already signed up for this class. If you are not here for Intro to Cosmetology 101, you are in the wrong classroom. Please check your class schedules for the correct room before asking me. If you are hoping for an alternate opening, please stand in the back of the classroom. Whew! It's always a little chaotic the first day I know. My name is Patricia Murray, or Miss Patty, or Miss Murray if you prefer. I will be your professor for this class"

She moved on to calling roll and a couple of the girls in the back gleefully found seats after 2 girls were not present. Miss Patty, I will call her because it's too fun to pass up, was quite the looker herself. She was about 5'6 or so, in her mid 40's, and had a big rock on her left ring finger. Damn. She had nice sized breasts, maybe a D cup, and had her white shirt buttoned up high so as not to reveal anything. She was wearing a black skirt that reached below her knees even while seated. Her calves looked toned like the rest of her, but also tanned and polished like a Corvette. Her heals were a simple black, like you might find on a librarian. "Damn her husband is a lucky bastard." I thought to myself.

Heather seemed like a punk rocker type. Her hair was already a burgundy red with darker roots half tied up with strands hanging by her ears. She had a ring pierced in her lip and was wearing black Dickies and a simple black t-shirt. She clearly had not bothered to wear anything decent. She suddenly turned to me with a very disapproving look on her face.

"So what's your plan? Are you here to try to fuck all the girls? Well it's not going to happen. I'm going to make sure as soon as you try."

Oh boy! This may turn out to be a lot more difficult than anticipated.