Aren’t Manicures Supposed To Be Relaxing?

, , , , | Working | May 9, 2020

My sister and I are about to go on holiday to Thailand and we go to a local salon to get our nails done. We were told about this place because it does some amazing nail designs. But the owner gets my sister’s nails all wrong.

Sister: *To me* “They look wrong.”

The nails are all wonky, some shorter than the others.

Sister: “Excuse me, can you tidy them up?”

The owner makes them worse. She asks a few more times, but they stay wonky.

Me: “We’re going somewhere else. My sister shouldn’t have to pay for a bad job.”

To our surprise, the owner gets cross and grabs my sister by the arms.

Owner: “No, I’ve done a beautiful job!”

My sister tries to fight herself away, sending bottles everywhere. The owner lets go and stands in front of the door, the only exit, locking us and two other young customers inside.

Owner: “You must pay!”

Sister: “Let us go!”

Owner: “No, you pay!”

We are now scared. He rummages behind the counter. One of the other customers asks to be let go. To our horror, the owner lets her go, but locks the door behind them!

Me: *Yelling* “I’m not having this!”

I see a long black case on the floor, and my sister and I bang it against the window.

Owner: “Pay now, pay now!”

I lunge for the door, but he fights me, pushing me hard. I fall onto the sofa, see my handbag, and grab my phone. I call the police.

Me: “Help! My sister and I are being held hostage in [Nail Salon]!”

To my surprise, the owner stopped being so vicious and let the police in when they arrived. He was only fined. But there’s no way we’re going back to that store.


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An Employer Who Pales In Comparison To Decent Ones

, , , , | Working | April 23, 2020

(I’m applying for a job at a tanning salon via an external agency, from which I have an assigned job coach. I have to say, I’m not exactly the beauty-guru type, and working at a salon was a questionable option for me from the start, but my job coach keeps telling me I’m perfect for the job.)

Job Coach: “It’s only a hostess type of function anyway. You know, welcome the customers, point them to their tanning booths, and make coffee.” 

(The job coach is there for the interview and we both arrive at the same time. The employer lets us in, but we are followed by a man who I think is another employee. Once the employer gets us set with coffee and tea and he strikes up a conversation with the man… which takes him about 20 minutes.)

Employer: *to the man* “Did you see the state of our windows? They really need some cleaning. I guess I’ll have those broads who work the desk here do that this week. All they do is sit on their a**es anyway.” 

(Finally, just when my job coach and I wonder if this is a job interview or a tea party, the employer says goodbye to the man he was talking to — a friend of his, as it turns out — and directs his attention to us. 

He describes a bit of the job and I’m mildly interested. It all sounds like something I could do. Then, my job coach asks him about the controversy surrounding tanning, and how you can get skin cancer from it. Cue a long tirade from the employer on how tanning is very healthy and it’s actually sunblock that causes cancer, followed by an equally long tirade on how big pharma is a conspiracy, global warming isn’t real, and vaccines cause autism, expecting us to agree with him at every point. 

The conversation finally ends and I’m expected to tag along for a day or two to see if this job is a match. I’m too baffled to counteract anything, and I let it happen, but once my job coach and I leave the shop, I express my concerns.)

Job Coach: “So, what do you think? Do you want to give it a shot? It could be a fun job!”

Me: “With all due respect… I don’t think I want to work for an employer who refers to his female employees as ‘those broads,’ displays a very unprofessional demeanor by yapping with his ‘friend’ for twenty minutes, and has so many wrong views on the world that I can only foresee a lot of arguing if I ever were to work for him. So… thanks but no thanks.”

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This Campaign Is Not So Pretty In Pink

, , , | Right | February 13, 2020

(I work in the retail area at a cosmetology school. In October, our product line promotes breast cancer awareness month. Our hand cream has a pink band around the bottle to explain this.)

Me: “Welcome to [Salon]. What brings you in today?”

Customer: “I’m looking for hand cream.”

(I take the customer over to the shelf with the lotions and begin talking with her about our hand cream, having her try out a sample from a normal bottle. She likes it, so I grab one of the pink-banded bottles to sell her.)

Customer: “Well, I don’t want it if it’s pink!”

Me: “What do you mean? There’s just this pink band around the bottle for breast cancer awareness; part of your purchase today will be donated toward research for a cure!”

Customer: “I don’t want pink hand lotion!”

Me: “Ma’am, the lotion is still white. There is just a pink band around the bottle.”

Customer: “I don’t want it!”

(She stormed out.)

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A Nail-Biting Conclusion

, , , , , | Working | January 29, 2020

(I go to get my nails done at a new salon in town. The women are at the various stations while a man stands at the cash register. I walk in and am immediately met by a woman in a smock. There are no other customers in the store.)

Woman: “Hello. Nails?”

Me: “Yes, please. A full set.”

Woman: “Okay, $45.” *points to the sign behind the cash register*

Me: *pulling out my wallet*

Woman: “Pay later. Come sit!” *ushers me to a chair*

Me: “Oh, okay.”

(The woman applies my nails and paints them, and then asks me to stand and gestures toward the drying stations. I start to take a seat but the man from behind the register grabs my arm and pulls me back up.)

Man: “No, no. You pay now!”

Me: *confused* “Um… but my nails are wet…”

Man: “Pay now, then dry!”

Me: “I can’t get in my wallet with wet nails. They’ll smear.”

Man: “You must pay.”

Me: “And I will… when I know I’m not going to damage my nails.”

(The woman and man talk quietly.)

Woman: “So sorry.” *gestures to the drying station again*

Me: “Thank you.”

(After my nails are dry, I approach the register.)

Man: “Okay, $60.”

Me: “What?”

Man: “$60. No cards.”

Me: “I was told when I came in that it was $45.”

Man: “$60.”

Me: “$45.”

Man: “No. $60.”

Me: *points to his pricing sign behind his head* “$45. And that says you take cards.”

Man: *turns to see where I’m pointing* “Fine. $45.”

(I was going to pay with a card, but now I’m suspicious, so I hand him two twenties and a ten, instead.)

Me: “Here you go.”

Man: “$5 tip for nails?”

Me: “No, that’s my change. I’ll give my tip directly to the woman who did my nails.”

(I do have another $10 in my wallet and intend to give it to her.)

Man: “No change.” *closes the drawer and walks away*

(I stand there for a moment, waiting for him to come back. None of the women will look at me.)

Me: “Excuse me. I need my change.” *loudly* “I’ll call the police.”

(The woman who did my nails comes forward.)

Woman: *opens the cash register and pulls out $5* “Don’t come back.”

Me: “I won’t.”

(A few months later, I drove by the salon and saw that it had closed down. Can’t say I’m surprised.)

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Being Poker-Faced About Your Feelings

, , , , | Romantic | December 25, 2019

(I work as a barber. I’m a young woman and I like to talk to my customers as I cut their hair. I have been friends with one who is just a few years older than I am since I was 17; we share a lot of the same hobbies and have some fun conversations while I work. In the beginning, I would have never thought of it due to the age difference — six years, which seemed like a lot when I was 17 — but recently I’ve been finding him to be very attractive. One particular visit, we’re talking about our plans for the weekend. Normally, we talk about video games or the like, but…)

Me: “So, what are you planning to do this weekend?”

Customer: “Oh… I wish I could game but I’m going up to [Local Casino] for a bachelor party. What are you going to be up to?”

Me: “Oh, I have maybe eight assignments for class and a final paper to finish! I’m probably going to pull at least one all-nighter this weekend.”

Customer: “Oh, no! Mine might not be what I enjoy, but at least it’s fun! How long until you finish up school again?”

Me: “This is my last class! Hopefully the last all-nighter, but we’ll see?”

Customer: “Well, at least you’re investing in your future! I hate casinos. I watched my parents throw away so much money at them. But [Friend] wants everyone to join him in a poker tournament.”

Me: “Ha! Well, at least you can invest anything you win right?”

Customer: “Well, maybe. Tell you what. If I win anything, I’ll come to take you out to dinner to celebrate finishing school, how about that?”

Me: *trying not to get excited, sarcastically* “As a broke college student, I will never say no to free food!”

Customer: “Haha! Be careful with that! I don’t want to come back and hear you’ve been lured into an unmarked van with candy like a child!”

(Jokes about me being young are common between us, so I assume this banter is more of the same. I finish his haircut and go about my weekend. On Monday however, I’m called to the front because a customer asked for me by name and I find him at the counter looking sheepish.)

Me: “Hi, [Customer]! What’s going on? Not happy with the cut?”

Customer: “Um… no… I mean… well…” *hands me a photo*

Me: “Is this… you… winning…”

Customer: “Yeah… That’s me winning the tournament… Apparently, looking like you’d rather be somewhere else makes people think you don’t know how to play poker at all… And well… I’m a man of my word, so… Would you like to go out to dinner this week?”

Me: *not hiding my excitement anymore* “YES!”

Customer: *startled slightly* “Oh? Oh! Okay! Well… Here, have my number and text me when you get off work?”

(I’m very excited for this dinner this weekend! I plan on telling him everything!)

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