Time To Face The Music And Get Educated

| VA, USA | Employees, Musical Mayhem, School

(I am getting my hair cut, and the conversation turns toward my school work. I am a musician.)

Me: “Since I want to get my doctorate, I will be in school for nine or ten years once it’s all done.”

Hairdresser: “Wow, I didn’t know musicians had to be smart!”

(There was no more conversation.)


Unfair With The Hair

| SK, Canada | Employees, Health & Body, Ignoring & Inattentive

(I get a groupon for a hair salon I’d never been to before as a gift.)

Me: “I’m growing out my hair, so I just want to clean up the ends. I know they’re ratty right now. My bangs are too long, which is why they’re pushed to the side, but usually they’re straight across.”

Stylist: “Oh, okay! Well, let’s get to work on that.”

(We make small talk for a few minutes.)

Stylist: “So, why’s your hair so damaged?”

Me: “Oh, well, it’s just a little frail because I permed it a year or so ago. But I’ve been trying—”

Stylist: *sees that another customer (for a different stylist) has come in, and interrupts me* “Oh! Hi! How are you?”

(She then proceeded ignore me and talk to the other stylist’s customer for the duration of my hair cut, which I wouldn’t have been quite so put off by if she hadn’t interrupted me. And then she got to my bangs.)

Me: *as she starts brushing them to the side to cut* “Oh, no, I actually don’t want them like that. I wear them straight across. I just had them to the side because they’re in my eyes right now.”

Stylist: “Mhmm, okay.” *goes back to talking to the other lady, continuing to push my hair to the side*

(I try again to tell her how I want them styled, and she ignores me again. Finally I push her hand out of the way and quickly pull them the way I want them.)

Stylist: “Oh! You want them straight across. But you had them pushed to the side!”

(And the hair drying…)

Stylist: “Yeah, your hair is really damaged. You need to buy some deep conditioning treatments. I’ll show you the one you need to buy when we’re done. And be very gentle when you style it.”

(Incidentally, as she was saying this, she was apparently oblivious to the fact that I was full out grimacing in pain because she was RIPPING through my hair with the brush – I could actually feel her breaking my hair that I needed to “treat gently”… Guess who didn’t get a tip?)


Working Very Nard

| MI, USA | Coworkers, Health & Body, Popular, Rude & Risque

(My husband is a cosmetologist in a small town salon. As a straight, male cosmetologist, he is something of a novelty. Sometimes his coworkers rely on his male experience for “insight.” Here, the receptionist is telling a story to a client.)

Receptionist: “…and the boy got hit right in the nards!”

Client: “In Menards?” *Menards is a local home improvement store*

Receptionist: “No, not Menards. His ‘male area,’ you know. [My Husband], what do you call your ‘boys’ in a professional setting?”

My Husband: “Well, I don’t normally talk about my anatomy in a professional setting!”

Don’t Wig Me Out

| Bozeman, MT, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Health & Body

(I have waist length hair and really only get it trimmed up every few months. I have been going to the same person for around six years before she leaves the salon. My first time with the new woman:)

Her: “Have you ever had short hair?”

Me: “Not for a long time.”

Her: *holding the scissors by my hair* “You know if you ever decide to chop your hair off again I would buy it for a wig.”

(I’m sure that she was just saying “nice hair” but when someone has scissors ready to go that is a creepy comment!)

Out-Of-Date, Out-Of-Mind

| Toronto, ON, Canada | Employees, Ignoring & Inattentive

(I call a hairdresser to make an appointment.)

Me: “Can you please tell me if you have any appointments left for Friday the 15th?”

Hairdresser: “Just one moment.”

(I can hear her ‘umming’ and ‘ahhing.’ After 15 or so seconds she comes back to the phone.)

Hairdresser: “You said Saturday, right?”

Me: “No, Friday.”

Hairdresser: “Oh!” *looks again* “We have an 11:30.”

Me: “Great. That will work.”

Hairdresser: “Okay. So that’s 11:30, Friday the 8th.”

Me: “No. I said the 15th.”

Hairdresser: “The 16th?”

Me: “You know what, forget it.”

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