As anyone who works in a family salon will know, cutting the hair of a child, especially a toddler, can be a lot of work. They’re fussy, they cry, they move around a lot, and they really don’t want to be there. That’s fine, really; they’re kids, and they don’t know how to process this scary stranger coming at their head with sharp-looking objects.

Along with giving us all some training, our salon encourages toddlers to sit on their parent’s laps when having a haircut, so they can be a calming presence and soothe them when it gets a bit too much for them.

A mother walks in with her two-year-old son who looks a bit overdue for a haircut. It’s not that his hair is long; it’s just scruffy and all over the place. Like a pet going to the vet, this child has just realized where he is, and he DOES NOT LIKE IT. He immediately begins wailing and fighting to leave. The mother picks him up and just… hands him to me.

Customer: “It’s [Son] with an appointment for [time half an hour ago]. I’d like a four on the top and a high fade on the sides, please.”

Me: “Okay. Would you like to take a seat here? We can place him on your lap so that—”

Customer: “Oh, I’m fine over here, thanks!”

She then takes a seat in the waiting area and starts browsing her phone.

Left holding a wailing, squirming child, I carry him over to our special child seat that looks like a racing car — steering wheel and everything. No dice. I try several methods, such as telling him how handsome he will look with a haircut, playing some “Paw Patrol” on my phone, and offering a lollypop (with the mother’s permission… when I finally got her attention). Sadly, nothing works.

Me: “Ma’am, I am not able to cut your son’s hair when he is like this. I’ve found that when children are sat with their parent, they are much more consolable.”

Customer: “Oh, he’s just being fussy. Just make a start and he’ll calm down.”

She looks back down at her phone.

For clarity, we know what fussy children are like. They will cry and moan and try to make a scene, but they’re generally okay, especially with the parent there to calm them down. They might cry through the whole “ordeal”, but they’ll sit there and accept that the haircut is going to happen.

This is not that.

Me: “Ma’am, this is not being fussy. He is in a state of emotional distress, and he is physically blocking any attempt I am making at approaching him. It would be unsafe for him if I even attempted a haircut. Please find a way to console him or bring him back when he has calmed down.”

Customer: *Tuts* “I’m sure you can figure it out. Isn’t this your job?”

Me: “My job, ma’am, is to safely cut your son’s hair. It isn’t to physically restrain him and force a haircut on him while he is in a state of emotional distress. As his mother, you either need to find a way to make this all right with him or come back another time.”

Customer: “You’re a totally useless hairdresser!”

Me: “And you seem like a totally useless mother. I have your name and number from the appointment book. Are you going to calm down your son or do I need to call someone?”

She glares at me but finally puts down her phone. She picks up her distraught son and storms toward the exit, but not before turning back to me.

Customer: “I was about to pass a super hard level on Candy Crush! I hope you’re happy!” *Leaves*

Another customer who saw the whole thing comments:

Customer #2: “Did she just compare parenting to Candy Crush?”

I am just finishing up a client’s hair.

Client: “I really love what you did to my hair!”

Me: “Thank you!”

Client: “But I’ll never be back because you didn’t talk enough.”

Oh, no… The loss.

I overhear this at my hairdresser while I am waiting to pay. A lady is having a consultation prior to having her hair cut. She has long, long dead-straight hair in a centre parting.

Customer: “Right. How can we give my hair more body on top? It’s so flat.”

Hairdresser: “Okay, I can put in some layers to help lift it.”

Customer: “No, I want to keep it all one length.”

Hairdresser: “I can recommend a product that will—”

Customer: “I already told you; I don’t want anything on my hair. I hate all those mousses and things.”

Hairdresser: “All right, then. That makes it a bit tough. If we dry it lifting it away from your scalp, it will help lift at the roots, but the length will pull it down without anything to hold it.”

Customer: “Is that something I can do at home?”

Hairdresser: “Yes, of course. You just lift like this—” *demonstrates with a brush* “—and then direct the hairdryer at the roots—”

Customer: “Oh, no, I hate using heat on my hair. I always let it dry naturally.”

Hairdresser: “I don’t honestly think you’ll get any lift in your hair without any product or heat. I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t work that way.”

Customer: “Look, I just want a haircut that will give me some body on top so it’s not flat to my head! You’re a hairdresser! Surely you can do something?”

At this point, I had paid and had to leave, with the poor hairdresser standing there looking bewildered. Lady, she can’t change the rules of physics for you; hair ain’t going to lift up on its own.

A girl comes into my salon. I take her to my seat and put the cape around her.

Me: “So, how are we going to cut it?”

Customer: “Can you cut it so it’s longer?”

Me: “You mean like hair extensions?”

Customer: “No, not fake hair. Can you cut it so it’s longer?”

Me: “No, but I can cut it so it’s shorter.”

She glares at me with the stare of Medusa.

Customer: “Ugh, forget it. Men can’t cut hair!”

She ripped off the cape and stormed off. All the other clients in the salon looked just as confused as I did.

My son wants a haircut, but all three of the salons in town have closed for various reasons. A new salon opens up, so I call the number on their sign. I’m not surprised when they don’t answer. I AM surprised when the nice phone lady informs me that the voicemail isn’t set up.

I call again the next day. The phone rings once and then goes to voicemail, a pretty strong sign my call was declined. 

Several hours later, I receive a call from the salon’s number.

Me: “Hello?”

Employee: “Hello?”

Me: “Yes? Hello?”

Not the most useful response.

Employee: “I… I have a missed call… from this number?”

Me: “Are you the salon?”

Employee: “Oh! Yes… I thought you were a scam call. I don’t answer calls from out-of-town area codes.”

Now, this IS a small town, but it’s a very hot tourist destination, and a lot of Alaska’s population are recent migrants from other states, so my out-of-town area code is in no way unusual.

Thinking I am being helpful, I say:

Me: “I see. Well, I would have left a message, but your voicemail isn’t set up yet.”

Employee: “Oh… no… I don’t really do messages… on my phone.”

Me: “So… can I get an appointment?”

When I went to the appointment, nobody was there!