(I am waiting for a hair cut. Next in the queue is a boy that can’t be older than four or five.)
Little Boy: “I want you to cut my hair spicy!”
Hairdresser: “…’spicy?'”
Little Boy: “Yeah, spicy! Like, super spicy!”
Hairdresser: “…don’t you mean ‘spiky?'”
Little Boy: “That too!”
(My co-worker is a tall, thin, very pretty girl. I am about the same height, but I am a plus-sized girl. I am in the middle of doing my count-out, since I am about to get off and my coworker is coming on. We have a customer waiting, so I ask her if she can check her out real quick. After she is done, we start a conversation.)
Coworker: “I don’t think I’m going to enjoy my classes this semester. I really just can’t wait for the whole thing to be over.”
Me: “You’ll be fine. Plus you need to be one of those girls that are both smart and pretty!”
(We both laugh, and she begins to tell me about her classes when the client interrupts.)
Client: “You know… you could be really pretty too if you tried.”
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Client: “I’m serious! You could be just as pretty as she is if you exercised, ate properly, and lost a good bit of weight.”
Me: “Oh… I…”
Client: “Well your face is as cute as a button! You just need to lose weight!”
Me: “Um… thanks.”
Client: “Do people even say cute as a button anymore? Oh well… your face is still cute as a button!”
(The client walks out.)
Coworker: “Did she really just tell you to lose weight?”
Me: “Yeah. But I’m cute as a button though!”
(We laugh. Now, when we see something we like, we say it’s cute as a button!)
Customer: “Helloooo! I’m at the desk!”
Me: “Oh, sorry, you just walked in. I was just coming to see to you !”
Customer: *demanding tone* “I’m wanting go bright red, okay?!”
Me: “Well, I will take you over first, then we can have a proper consultation.”
Customer: “Right then!”
Me: “If you are wanting to go bright red, we would need to strip the colour out because you are jet black.”
Customer: “Well, I don’t want that; it hurts when it gets stripped! I want bright red now, from the poster! I’m the customer; I’m always right!”
Me: “Well, I have been doing hairdressing for two years, and to be honest, it doesn’t hurt because it won’t be on your scalp.”
Customer: “Well, I’m still right. If you put the red on, it will work!”
Me: “Okay, then.”
(After I apply the color to keep her happy…)
Customer: “Where is my f***ing bright red hair?!”
Me: “I told you it wouldn’t work. As you said, you’re the customer, and you’re always right!”
(She ended up keeping her mouth shut. Thankfully, she didn’t come back again!)
(My step-sister and I are around 7 and 8 when this occurs.)
Stylist: “Oh look, twins!”
My Sister: “We aren’t twins; we look nothing alike. I have dark hair and eyes, and my sister has blonde hair and blue eyes!”
Stylist: “No, you are definitely twins.” *to me* “Aren’t you, dear?”
Me: “No, she’s older than me!”
Stylist: “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You must be twins!”
(She drags us out to where our mom is waiting.)
Stylist: “They are twins, yes?”
My Mom: “Um, no.”
Stylist: “You must be wrong! I know they are twins!”
My Mom: “Well, I only gave birth to one of them, so, no.”
Stylist: “You are twins! You just don’t know it!”
(I am about to go on an extended trip, so I’m getting my hair cut from shoulder-length to about an inch long. The hairstylist is very excited to cut and style my hair.)
Hairstylist: “I have a great idea for a style for your hair. But first, would you mind if I give you a mullet and laugh at it for awhile before I give you the cut you want?”
Me: “…Umm… I suppose not.”
(She proceeds to cut my hair into a mullet and almost wet herself laughing, before cutting it short like I wanted.)
