Do Your Hair Toss, Check Your Nails

, , , , , , | Working | March 17, 2020

(I have just moved to a small town after leaving an abusive relationship. As I’m starting a new job and my birthday is coming up, I decide to treat myself to a haircut.)

Hairdresser: “What would you like today?”

Me: “I’d like it cut to here–” *indicates to shoulders* “–with layers and half a head of foils, please. Will it be any more than [amount I have budgeted for]?”

Hairdresser: “That’s not a problem; I can do it for that.”

(As she’s cutting my hair, we chat.)

Hairdresser: “Are you new in town?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve just moved from [City] and start work on Monday at [Local Hotel]. My birthday is coming up, so to celebrate I thought I’d treat myself.”

Hairdresser: “Happy birthday and welcome to [Town]!”

(Once we finish with the foils and it’s time for me to pay:)

Hairdresser: “If you have time, I’ll do [expensive hair treatment].”

Me: “I only have [amount we agreed on].”

Hairdresser: “Don’t worry.” 

Me: “Okay, thank you.”

(When I go to pay)

Me: “Thank you! I love it. I definitely will be back.”

Hairdresser: “Great, I’m glad you like it. That’s [amount half of what we agreed on]. Happy birthday and good luck with the new job.”

Me: *almost in tears* “Are you sure?”

Hairdresser: “Perks of being the owner; I can charge what I want.”

Me: *crying* “Thank you, this means a lot. I’ve had a tough time lately and thought this might give me a boost.”

Hairdresser: “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to, you are welcome to come here for a cuppa.”

(Years later, with her support, I’ve married, had kids, and moved away, but I’m still friends with the other hairdressers and she’s become like my second mum.)

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Style Over Substance

, , , | Right | March 2, 2020

(I don’t much like going to barbers or hair places because I have perpetual bad hair day. I generally give up on instructions to the stylist.)

Stylist #1: “Scissors or clippers?”

Me: “Whatever you prefer to use.”

Stylist #1: *momentary confusion*

(One day, I get an older stylist and she realizes I am giving her the option to do what she wants.)

Stylist #2: “I’m going to thin out the base of your hair so it’ll rise up at the top, and…”

(She lost me with the rest of her plan. The “thinning” thing bothered me since my head was already doing that naturally, but I sighed inwardly and let it happen. I got three compliments on my hair the next day. I think I’m going back to her for my next haircut!)

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A Pinch Of Assault

, , , , , | Right | January 31, 2020

(I am an independent contractor in a barbershop. This means that, while I am a representative of the shop name, I build my own clientele, keep my own cash box, and pay the shop out rather than the other way around. The owner recognizes that we all are independent people and have different methods of building our clientele. Some can rattle off past haircuts, building an important rapport; I cannot. My memory is awful on the best days, and I have a hard time connecting 200+ heads to cuts monthly. Many of my clients understand this, due to working with the public themselves, and know I like confirming information, anyway, to ensure the best cut. I build my rapport with my clients through comics books, video games, horror, and the mouth my sailor father gifted me. I had one client yesterday that decided that wasn’t good enough.)

Client: *sits* “You remember my haircut, right? It’s easy!”

Me: “Sorry, [Client], you know my brain isn’t wired that way. I remember you, of course. Your haircut, not so much.”

Client: “What would it take for you to remember it, huh?”

Me: “Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do. There are maybe four cuts in the last six years that I can remember consistently, and even then, I always double-check in case I remembered an old cut, instead.”

Client: “What if I pinched you? You’d remember it then, right?”

Me: “What? Dude, you’d just be the d**k that pinched me. That’s all I’m going to remember.”

Client: “I think it’s worth a shot.”

Me: “I actively have sharp objects in my hand. Don’t pinch me.”

(The rest of the haircut goes through a similar conversation, him amused, myself annoyed. I finish the cut and he hands me his payment.)

Client: *pinches my arm as soon as he lets go of the money* “Pinchy!”

Me: *swats* “Ay, a**hole!”

Client: *running out the door, giggling* “Next time, you’ll remember!”

(It’s been fifteen hours. I’ve already forgotten his haircut.)


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The Barbers Equivalent Of “It Didn’t Scan!”

, , , | Right | November 3, 2019

Me: *towards the end of haircuts* “How would you like your neckline shaped?”

Literally 75% Of Men That Get In My Chair: “Doesn’t matter to me!” *laughs* “I never see it anyway!”

Me: *yet again, fakes light laughter, soul crushed from hearing the same joke eight times a day*

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It’s Haircut-And-Dry Anger Issues

, , , , | Right | May 26, 2019

(I walk into a salon to get my hair cut and am greeted by an enraged, middle-aged man furiously shouting at the woman who cut his hair.)

Customer: “I want my money back! I paid you for a service and you did a s***ty job!”

Stylist: “I’m sorry, sir, but it is not company policy to pay you back with cash. You’ll have to call corporate and they can help you get your money back.”

(The customer is enraged by this statement and begins clenching his fists and shaking all over.)

Customer: “THIS IS BULLS***! I WANT MY MONEY BACK! GIVE ME MY MONEY!”

(The man tries reaching over the counter to grab the woman. He gets part of her shirt but she evades him and grabs the phone to call the police. As the woman walks towards the back on the phone with the police, while being barraged with cuss words from behind her, a young girl — probably 14 to 16 years old — speaks out.)

Young Girl: “You’re so immature! Get over yourself.”

Customer: “What did you say to me, you little b****?”

(He begins to approach the young girl. I should mention that I am the only other male in the shop. It looks like this 40- to 50-year-old man is about to get physical with a little girl, so I decide it is time for me to interject. I get up and stand toe-to-toe with the man.)

Me: “I have to ask you: do you have kids?”

Customer: *trembling with rage* “Yes, I do. Why?”

Me: “Because if you were my dad, and I saw you walk in here and disrespect all these women like this and try to get physical with them, I would be beyond disappointed.”

Customer: *with his fists clenched and a violent look on his face* “…”

Me: “You’ve clearly had a terrible day. I can tell because no one gets this upset about a haircut. I mean, look at you. You’re shaking with adrenaline and it looks like you were about to hit a young girl.”

Customer: “I… I’m just worked up.”

Me: “How about this? Just think about your kids, man. How upset will they be to hear that their dad had to spend the night in jail because he got upset over a haircut? I know you don’t want that image of you in your wife and kid’s minds.”

(His fists unclench, but he’s still shaking. He raises his hand up to me — I get ready to block a punch — and puts it on my shoulder.)

Customer: “You’re a good kid.”

(He began to walk out the door but was greeted by two local police officers who put him in handcuffs. I then had the most interesting haircut of my life, which consisted of a grateful, teary-eyed woman cutting my hair and a police officer asking me questions.)

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