Suffering From A Different Kind Of Hair-Loss

| Working | January 19, 2015

(I am blessed with soft, thick, luxurious hair that grows incredibly fast. I decide to start donating it every couple of years once it gets long enough, usually about to my lower back or thighs, or whenever I grow too frustrated with it. I go in to ‘harvest the crop’ and one of the girls tells me to come on over and sit down.)

Stylist: “Okay, so what are we doing to it today?”

Me: “Cut it short, but save the ponytail. I’m donating it.”

Stylist: *somewhat perturbed* “Oh… that’s interesting.”

(I’m not really paying attention while she’s cutting. I run a side business and am on my phone sorting out some orders until she’s done.)

Stylist: “Finished!”

Me: *looks up* “ACK! WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

(My hair is now cropped up to my ears when I usually like it cut about to the nape of my neck. Even worse, I look down on the floor and all of my hard-grown hair is lying in tattered shreds and pieces all around the chair, utterly useless for cancer donation. I turned around, wild-eyed.)

Me: “I was going to donate that! What the h*** did you do to it?!”

Stylist: “I did exactly like you said; I cut it short. It’s a cute little pixie cut now!”

Me: “Okay, one, I did NOT ask for a d*** pixie cut; it looks atrocious! Two, I asked you to cut it straight across and SAVE the PONYTAIL! I was donating it!”

Stylist: “Okay, uh, eww! You know they just toss the hair out, right? Besides, this is so cute on you!”

Me: “They don’t ‘toss it out,’ it goes to cancer patients! My niece ended up with the last ponytail I donated!”

Stylist: “Well, your niece is officially gross and you obviously don’t care about your appearance. You need to pay for the cut now.”

Me: “I’m not paying you for s***!”

(One of the other women overhears the argument and brings the head stylist over, as well as the lady who usually cuts my hair.)

Regular: “[My Name], I thought you were donating this week.”

Me: “I WAS, before she did this to me.” *points at ridiculous haircut*

Stylist: “Nobody donates hair! That’s f****** disgusting!”

Regular: “Uh, SHE has, for the last two years!”

Stylist: “Whatever, she still needs to pay for the cut.”

Regular: “No, she doesn’t. You on the other hand, owe her an apology and you can officially excuse yourself for the rest of the week.”

(She flipped me off instead and stormed out. I found out later that she was fired for throwing out ponytails of donated hair that other stylists had saved up for various organizations. A total of thirty-four donations wound up in the dump.)

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Deaf To Reason, Part 2

| Working | November 10, 2013

(I am 26 years old, and going in a restaurant with my sister. I am also deaf, so she translates for me.)

Me: *signing* “Can I have a [Brand] pizza?”

Sister: “Sure.”

(The waitress comes up, and my sister orders.)

Sister: “Can I have a chocolate milkshake and [Other Brand] pizza? And she’ll have [Brand) pizza.”

Waitress: “Okay.”

(The waitress comes back with our food. My sister soon has to go to the restroom. I am on my own when the waitress comes up. She says something and I try to sign I’m deaf, but she moves her lips again very quickly. I can’t understand what she’s saying.)

Me: *signing* “Stop!”

(What they say next is what the manager and my sister told me. The manager begins coming up from behind the counter.)

Waitress: “Oh, so you’re f****** better than everyone are you? You think you can’t say thank you, can you? You ungrateful little b****! I ought to slap you, you b****!”

Manager: “[Waitress!]”

(She proceeds to raise her fist, and I put my hands up defensively. I am completely surprised.)

Manager: “[Waitress]! Stop that! What’s she done wrong?”

(The waitress turns to the manager.)

Waitress: “I asked her if she was enjoying her meal, and she stared straight ahead! She’s ungrateful! And I bet she won’t pay a tip!”

(My sister comes out the bathroom.)

Sister: “What’s going on?”

Manager: “The waitress was about to attack this woman.”

Sister: “She’s DEAF!”

(My sister signs to me.)

Sister: “It’s okay, [My Name]; everything will be all right.”

Waitress: “Well she should get a hearing aid; not my problem.”

(We never go back there until she moves.)

 

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Yukon Not Steal It

| Right | October 22, 2012

(I’m Canadian, but I’m visiting my French cousin and helping him do some repairs on his cafe. While we’re working, a large family passes by, obviously lost. I’m wearing a shirt with a large Canadian flag on the back.)

Mother: “Excuse me! I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Canadian?”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Mother: “Thank god! We’ve been lost for hours.”

(She shows me her map. Ultimately, I work out they’re trying to cross the border into Germany, but got lost trying to find out how to get there.)

Father: “Good thing the signs are all in French, or else we wouldn’t have managed to find our way around anywhere!”

Me: “Yeah, it sure makes things easier for Canadians, eh?”

(Suddenly, there’s a scuffle behind me. My cousin comes out dragging two of their sons behind him.)

Cousin: “They were trying to steal bottles of juice! I heard them planning it!”

Son #1: *to Son #2* “Well, how was I supposed to know they speak French here? They all sound so different!”

(Quebecois and French speakers do sound somewhat different, but angry mothers are universal!)

 

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Saved Them From A Bloodbath

| Learning | November 29, 2013

(At my middle school we take overnight field trips to do nature experiments for our science class. Since our class is small, they only open the girls cabins for us instead of opening the whole camp. I am a male and since I went to a Christian middle school some of my classmates are rather sheltered. We are all getting settled in for the night and hear yelling from the bathroom.)

Student #1: “WHAT THE H*** IS THAT?!”

Student #2: “What are you screaming about?”

Student #1: “There is this thing in here and it has a fuse on it! I think it may be a bomb!”

Student #2: “I doubt that. Bring it out here.”

(The student then walks out of the bathroom very tentatively holding a tampon at arms length.)

Student #1: “You… you think it’s dangerous?”

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Wearing Law Suits Will Get You Law Suits

, , , , , | Right | November 25, 2010

(My friends and I are on a mock trial team. We’re all about sixteen, and we have to wear suits to court, like a real trial. We are using a courtroom that no one is using for the day. During a recess, the doors burst open and a woman storms in.)

Woman: “I demand a lawyer!”

Us: “Uh…”

Woman: “You! You there!”

Me: “Who, me?”

Woman: “Yes! I want you to be my lawyer!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not a real lawyer.”

Woman: “But you’re in a courtroom! People in courtrooms are lawyers. That’s why I came here to get one.”

Me: “We’re just using it because there’s no one here today. This is a mock trial.”

Woman: “But you’ve got a briefcase!”

Me: “Ma’am, that does have our case information in it, but it’s not a real case. This is mock trial. It simulates a trial. It’s supposed to be exactly like a real one, but… it’s… not.”

Woman: “You’re not a real lawyer? I’m going to sue you for false advertisement. I bet you haven’t even gone to law school!”

Me: “No, I haven’t. And that’s not exactly how suing someone works. I mean, would you sue Tom Cruise for playing a lawyer in A Few Good Men even though he’s not one?”

*pause*

Woman: “But… but you’re wearing a suit!”

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