The Scent Of A Sale

| CA, USA | Working | January 27, 2017

(I’m the customer in this story. My sister and I are in a shop that mainly specializes in scented lotions, perfumes, etc.)

Sister & Me: *smells a foul scent*

Worker: *next to us* “Hi, would you like to test out a couple scents. There’s a couple over here that are popular.” *leads my sister and me away from the foul smelling area*

Sister: *once the worker leaves* “He totally farted and tried playing it off.”

A Sudden ‘Change’ In Behavior

| London, England | Related | September 22, 2016

(My mum goes out to get her nails done and when she gets there, there is a queue with a mother and her four-year-old daughter.)

Mother: “[Daughter], why don’t you go and get a drink from next door?”

(This makes sense as it’s quite a hot day.)

Daughter: “Okay.”

(The mother then gives her daughter a pound and sends her on her way. The daughter comes back and madness ensues.)

Mother: “Ooh, what did you get?”

Daughter: “A [drink]!”

Mother: “Okay, where’s the change?”

Daughter: *looks confused*

Mother: “Did you pick up the change? YOU ALWAYS PICK UP THE CHANGE!”

Daughter: “I just chose my drink and paid the man.”

Mother: “THAT NEVER COSTS ONE POUND! THERE MUST HAVE BEEN CHANGE!”

(She then proceeds to grab the child’s shoulder and shake it.)

Mother: “WHERE’S MY CHANGE!?”

Daughter: *silence*

Mother: “It’s ridiculous! Watch my bag.”

(The mother leaves the daughter in the shop, on her own, with a bag, whilst she goes next door to retrieve the change. She returns with fifty pence, bends down to eye level with her daughter and says through gritted teeth.)

Mother: “When you go shopping you have to pay and wait for the change. If you don’t, you won’t be able to do it again!”

(The four-year-old girl proceeded to sit down on the sofa and finished her drink as though nothing ever happened. If her mother reacted like that over 50p then I fear for the daughter’s well-being.)

Hair And Phone-Line Cut

| WA, USA | Romantic | May 4, 2015

(My mom is learning/working at a beauty parlor.)

Mom: *to her current customer getting a haircut* “So, how do you want your style today?”

Customer: “Just short, same style and everything… Say, you know these other girls working here, right?”

Mom: “Yeah, a little. We chitchat. Why?”

Customer: “Do you know if any of them are married?”

Mom: “…Well, actually, yeah, most are.”

Customer: “But you’ve got like other friends, right?”

Mom: “Yeah, of course.”

Customer: “So, do you know if any other your other friends are married? Or maybe looking into getting together with someone?”

Mom: “…Maybe. I’m sure someone might be.”

Customer: “Cool! You’ve got her number? Can you give it to me?”

Mom: “No. What if they don’t want me to give out their number?”

Customer: “Oh, come on…”

Mom: “No.”

Customer: “You sure?”

Mom: “Yes.”

Customer: “How about your number? Here, I can write it down right now.”

(He takes out his phone.)

Mom: “Sure, it’s [number].”

Customer: “Cool! Thanks! And I can call like whenever right?”

Mom: “Yeah, sure.”

Customer: “So, like on Sunday afternoon, maybe?”

Mom: “Yeah, you can call. I might be at church, though.”

Customer: “Oh, really… Um…”

Mom: “You know, if I’m busy, though, I won’t be able to answer, but you could call my husband. Do you want his number, too?”

(The customer quickly put his phone away and remained mostly quiet for the rest of the hair cut.)

No Sub-Price For The Sub-Continent

, | Liverpool, England, UK | Right | July 4, 2014

(I’m having my eyebrows threaded at a beauty stand I frequent in the middle of the main thoroughfare of our local shopping mall. The business is owned and run by an Asian family, and they offer very competitive prices. They also offer threading for other facial hair. While I’m there, there are two technicians, both young Asian ladies. An older Asian man approaches Technician #1, who is working on my eyebrows, while Technician #2 is having a conversation with someone on the phone in her native language.

Man: “How much is it to have my whole face done?”

Technician #1: “£22.”.

Man: “I’m Indian.”

Technician #1: “Yes. £22.”

Man: “What? Even for a fellow Indian?”

(At this point, Technician #2 puts the phone down, and says something to Technician #1 in their language. The Indian man waits, expectantly. She addresses him in English.)

Technician #2: “We’re from Pakistan. £22.”

(The man glares and stalks off, before the two technicians burst into laughter. I ask what I’ve missed.)

Technician #1: “We’re Indian.”

Technician #2: “We always get these older guys trying to haggle us down ‘because we’re all Indian.’ India’s a big place, and we have a business to run!”

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Situation Is About To Get Hairy

| West Point, NY, USA | Working | August 2, 2013

(I have hair that reaches past my waist. I entered the salon with it tied in a bun.)

Me: “Hi, I just wondered if you could take about six inches off my hair. No layers or anything just cut it straight.”

Hair Stylist: “Sure, hon. No problem! Have a seat. Six inches is sort of a lot; are you sure you want me to take that much?”

(The stylist begins taking my hair down, and realizes how long it is.)

Hair Stylist: “Oh, wow! Why on earth would you let your hair get so long? How much did you want me to take off again?”

Me: “Oh, I’m pretty used to it. Just six inches or so; bring it back up to my waist, please.”

(The stylist begins working, and I can’t see how much she’s actually cutting until she turns the chair back to face the mirror, looking very pleased with herself.)

Hair Stylist: “There! That’s much better, isn’t it?”

(She has cut much more than I asked her to, and my hair is now just past my shoulders, which is way shorter than I’m used to.)

Me: “What did you do? I only wanted six inches cut off; you took a foot and a half!”

Hair Stylist: “But it will be so much easier for you to handle now, not to mention that no one has hair that long anymore.”

Me: “I liked my hair! Why would you cut so much off?”

Hair Stylist: “It’s better this way; you’ll thank me later, trust me. Now, that will be [amount].”

Me: “I’m not PAYING you for ruining my hair!”

(The owner of the salon, who I am acquainted with, pokes her head out of the other room and gasps when she sees my hair.)

Owner: “Hi [my name]! I thought you liked your hair long.”

Me: “I do! She cut off almost two feet when I asked for six inches!”

Owner: “[Stylist], why would you do that?”

Hair Stylist: “It looks way better; it’s much more modern this way.”

Owner: “But she liked it long! It’s your job to cut hair the way people ask you, not to make lifestyle decisions for people!”

Hair Stylist: “Whatever, she’ll be thanking me later! Now she needs to pay.”

Owner: “No she doesn’t. You blatantly ignored her wishes, and you’re insulting her.”

(The stylist and owner argue for a few more minutes. Finally, the stylist storms out, and the owner gives me a gift card to my favorite coffee chain to make up for it. Of course, I still have to wait a year for my hair to grow back out.)

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