Going For A Different (A)Tone

| Philadelphia, PA, USA | Working | April 12, 2017

(I work for a Jewish agency and as such have all the major (and some not-so-major) Jewish holidays off. I am of Jewish heritage but I’m fully lapsed and don’t practice, but all the time off is nice! On one of these holidays I go to my hairstylist. He’s very good but he tried a new color on my hair the week before that did not work out. He’s fixing it as we have this conversation.)

Stylist: “I’m sorry about this.”

Me: “That’s okay. No harm done.”

Stylist: “And I’m sorry you had to come in on a Wednesday! I hope you didn’t have to work late tonight or take time off for this.”

Me: “Oh, no. I have the day off. It’s a holiday.”

Stylist: “Holiday?”

Me: “Yeah, a Jewish holiday. I work for [Jewish Agency]. It’s Yom Kippur.”

Stylist: “Oh, okay. Sorry, I can’t remember what that one is. Is it, like, Jewish New Year or something?”

Me: “No, that’s Rosh Hashana. That was last week. Yom Kippur is the day of atonement. I’m supposed to be atoning for my sins of the last year. But I’m here instead. Oh, well!”

Stylist: “I guess instead you’re atoning for my sins! The sin of choosing the wrong color for your hair!”

(It looked great when he was done!)

Cutting The Hair ‘Straight’

| USA | Related | April 6, 2017

(I am 14 and I decide to donate my incredibly long hair to one of the charities that makes wigs for children and teens with cancer. (Note: I’m a girl.) My mom agrees to let me do it, and drops me off at the salon while she runs some errands. I’d never had short hair before, and when the stylist asked what kind of cut I wanted, I just told her whatever she thought would look nice. She gave me a kind of bob-cut, but could tell I wasn’t into it.)

Stylist: “Would you like to try something else?”

Me: “I think so…”

Stylist: “I honestly think you would look amazing with a pixie cut.” *shows me a picture* “Would you like to try that?”

Me: “Yes! That looks like P!nk’s hair!” *she was one of my favorite singers at the time*

Stylist: “Okay! Here we go!”

(She gives me an amazing pixie cut, and it really flatters my face more than my long hair ever did. I’m waiting excitedly for my mom to pick me up, but the look on her face when she walks through the door is not reassuring.)

Mom: “[My Name]! What have you done?!”

Me: “I donated my hair… like we talked about.”

Mom: “You didn’t need to cut THAT much off!”

Me: “I like it! And it’s going to be so easy to take care of now.”

Mom: “But… but people will think you’re a lesbian!”

(By now the stylist, her coworkers, and the other salon patrons are staring at us. I’m on the verge of tears, because my mom had always talked about respecting everyone no matter what their race, religion, sexual orientation, etc. and now she’s said something so stereotypical and ignorant.)

Me: “Mom, I know this is a surprise, but [Close Family Friend] has this kind of haircut, and she’s very happy with her husband. Also, both [Grandma #1] and [Grandma #2] have short hair. Are you saying I can’t be straight and have short hair unless I’m already married or old?”

(After a few minutes of silence, my mom did apologize and we were able to leave the salon on good terms. Fast-forward a few weeks, and I’ve been getting nothing but compliments on my hair. As soon as she saw how much other people liked my haircut, my mom started saying things like: “Isn’t that cut flattering?” or “I don’t know why My Name didn’t do this sooner!”. No more mentions of potential lesbianism. *sigh* Thanks, Mom.)

Your Knowledge Of Diseases Is Rusty

| Richmond, VA, USA | Related | March 22, 2017

(My sister and I are at a hair salon, and while getting our haircuts the topic of plucking eyebrows came up. My sister’s have just been waxed.)

Sister: “My eyebrows look better than yours now!”

Me: “Yeah, because they were just done by a professional. I do mine in my bathroom with rusty tweezers.”

Sister: “Rusty?”

Me: “It’s not too bad. I haven’t gotten tetanus yet so I guess I’m okay.”

Sister: “What’s tetanus?”

Me: “It’s what you get when you cut yourself on something rusty.”

Sister: “I thought that was polio!”

Me: “…Polio?”

Sister: “Polio is what you get when you cut yourself on something rusty!”

Me: “No, it’s tetanus!”

Sister: “What does polio do then?”

Me: “I don’t know; make it so you can’t walk? That’s why FDR needed a wheelchair. He got polio.”

Sister: “Wait, if you get tetanus from rusty metal, then what did Jonas Salk cure?”

Me: “POLIO! And he didn’t cure it, he created vaccines for it!”

Sister: “So who cured tetanus?”

Me: *groans*

(She did eventually get it. But how you can make it to 20 thinking you got polio from rusty metal is beyond me.)

This Gay Gets The Wrong Type Of ‘D’

| UK | Related | March 22, 2017

(I have taken my grandmother to the hairdressers and she is making chitchat with the hairdresser.)

Hairdresser: “So did you hear about [Name]? He’s come out as gay. He’s got a boyfriend and everything. He’s been keeping it all secret for years.”

Grandmother: “[My Name] was like that. Weren’t you, [My Name]?”

Hairdresser: “You’re gay, [My Name]? I never would have guessed!”

Me: “I’m not gay. I don’t know where you got that idea from.”

Grandmother: “Well, whatever that other thing you’ve got is.”

Me: “Diabetes?”

Grandmother: *scoffs* “Diabetes. There’s no such thing!”

Me: *sarcastically* “Yeah, that’s why I inject myself four times a day…”

(She went quiet for the rest of her haircut. My mum later told me she was trying to arrange an intervention because of my “drug habit.” I’ve had diabetes for most of my life, so I can’t understand why she doesn’t believe in it. She still thinks I’m gay, though, and now also a drug addict.)

Wish He Would Pokémon Go Away

| FL, USA | Friendly | February 8, 2017

(I’m waiting in a salon for a hair appointment, idly playing a Pokémon game on my handheld. A boy of about ten or so who is waiting with his mother sees and immediately gets excited.)

Kid: “You have Pokémon! Do you want to trade?”

Me: “Haha, sure, if it’s okay with your mom.”

Woman: “Oh, as long as he isn’t bothering you, of course.”

(I open up my Pokémon to find something to trade. I’m not expecting to get anything good; I’m mostly just charmed by the kid’s enthusiasm and the experience, until…)

Kid: *leaning over my shoulder watching me scroll through my Pokémon* “Wow! You have a shiny [Rare Pokémon]! I want that one!”

Me: “That one’s not for trade. But all these—“

(Before I can say anything else, the kid begins screaming in my face. Like someone has flipped a switch, this ten-year-old turns red faced and howling at top volume, with tears streaming down his face, fists bunched angrily at his sides. It’s the sort of wild, hysterical tantrum you’d expect a toddler to throw.)

Woman: “Just give him the stupid thing!”

Me: “Lady, with all due respect, if this is how your kid reacts to being told he can’t have something in a VIDEO GAME, I’m not going to enable him.”

(The salon owner came over and told the woman she needed to control her kid or leave. I missed the resolution of it because I got called back for my hair appointment. As she was leaning me back into the basin to wash my hair for the cut, my stylist murmured, “I don’t know about you, but that made my uterus shrivel up.” You and me both, sister.)

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