Sick Of Bad Parenting

| Ireland | Right | December 30, 2016

(I occasionally help out in my mother’s salon at busy times like Christmas week. There is a bit of a lull one morning this year so I leave to run some errands just as a client arrives with her three young children. I missed the following occurring not even ten minutes later..)

Baby: *throws up*

Mom: *sympathetic* “Is she OK?”

Client: “She’s fine, just something she ate this morning.”

(Almost on cue, one of the older kids “projectile vomits” across the floor. The other one doesn’t look very well either.)

Mom: “I’m sorry, but you need to take them home. They’re all sick.”

Client: “But my hair…”

Stylist: “No, they’re sick and if we get sick, too, we can’t work. They have that stomach bug that’s going around and it’s really bad.”

Client: “But my husband won’t look after them. I need my hair done!”

Mom: “In Ireland, men mind children, too. If he lives here, he helps.”

(She reluctantly left. I came back to my mother bleaching everything the kids had touched or thrown up on, and thankfully none of us got sick. We were just so boggled about how anyone could take clearly sick kids out anywhere, let alone for something as silly as a hair appointment. The client even tried to get another appointment for the day after Christmas, when no salon will open…)

Time To Face The Music And Get Educated

| VA, USA | Working | August 4, 2016

(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 | Working | July 12, 2016

(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?)

Did I Hair You Properly?

| Fairfield County, CT, USA | Right | May 16, 2016

(I enter the salon with very long, thick, unruly, curly hair. I haven’t been taking the best care of it so my ends are pretty split and dry. I decide on a dramatic change – chop it all off and go with a super short bob. Despite some damage, my hair’s length, thickness, and texture never failed to impress people.)

Hairdresser: “Wow, such thick pretty hair! Oh but I know you’re ready for a change! The new cut will be perfect!”

Me: “Yes I’m really excited!”

Hairdresser: “Okay I’m going to cut off the majority of your hair to start before we wash and condition, and get to the actual haircut.”

(The hairdresser proceeds to put my hair into a ponytail and cut away. As she is doing this, a regular’s kid, a little girl of about seven, stops behind me to watch. From the reflection in the mirror I can see her eyes go giant in amazement. The hairdresser is just about done chopping off the last bit of length.)

Little Girl: “HER HAIR!”

Hairdresser: “Yes, honey, she’s cutting it off. She wants a new look.”

Little Girl: “CAN I HAVE IT?!”

Hairdresser: “Go sit down!”

(The little girl walked off disappointed…)

Working Very Nard

| MI, USA | Working | March 22, 2016

(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!”

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