Unfiltered Story #191598

, , | Unfiltered | April 8, 2020

(I work at a salon and spa, and we also sell retail products as well, such as shampoos and styling products. Clients will sometimes call in and ask about specific products.)
Me: “Thank you for calling *salon* this is *my name*, how can I help you?”
Customer: “Hi, can you tell me the price for *brand name*”
Me: “Sure, we have shampoo, conditioner, and other styling products of *brand name*.”
Customer: “No it’s called *brand name*.”
Me: “Ma’am, *brand name* is one of our hair product lines. It has shampoo, conditioner, and a few styling products.”
Customer: “No! It’s called *brand name*!”
Me: (trying to figure out what product she is looking for, and ruling out shampoo and conditioner) “Okay, is it a pump or squeeze tube?”
Customer: “I have it right in front of me! It says *brand name*, and its a 6.7oz squeeze bottle.”
Me: “Great, that product is *product name*, which is $24.”
Customer: “No, it’s called *brand name*!”
Me: (giving up) “Oh yes ma’am, here it is. *Brand name*. It is $24.”
Customer: “Well, that took a long time! Are you new?”
(I have been working here for 5 years.)

Unfiltered Story #190574

, , , | Unfiltered | March 24, 2020

A beautiful tall lady walks in, with glorious blonde hair, fur coat to the floor, and with a machismo-bitch thing going on.

“Hello there, how’s it going? Do you have an appointment today?”

With her nose turned up, takes off her majestic fur coat, hands it–no, sticks it to my face-and says “Uh-huh. Yes. Yes. Table for two, please. Yes?” in a thick Russian accent.

“I’m sorry?”

She looked around the salon full of clients with foils in their hair and towels on their shoulders, stylists milling around with scissors and brushes, and the works. Seemingly unfazed by this and now irritated, she barked at me again, “For two! Table for two, please! Right away! And I’m having dinner with the gentleman. He’s here, yes?”

(Oooooh, girl. First of all, turn down the attitude. And secondly, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about)

Guess she had a date. With THE gentleman.

“Oh, I’m sorry but this is a hair salon…” I said.

“What?!!!” She looked around one more time, her face slowly turned red as she realized where she was. “Ah! No! Oh my God! Sorry! So sorry!” she said, all embarrassed and now all friendly. She quickly snatched her fur coat from me and stormed out, before I could finish saying “…perhaps you meant to go to the restaurant two doors down?”

Did she have a blind date? Did she get punked? Is it normal to dine out with foils in your hair in Russia? Do servers there cut your hair while you eat?

So many questions.

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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Unfiltered Story #182201

, | Unfiltered | January 6, 2020

(I’m the only nail technician at a tiny salon and I run the nail services as my own business part-time. I have the option for clients to book their own appointments online.)
Me: *Answering the phone at home since my appointment that day isn’t until 2 pm* Hello?
Client: Hello? Why isn’t anyone at the shop? My appointment is at 1 o’clock!
Me: *I’m baffled and double-check the scheduling program I use to confirm that her appointment is at 2pm* No ma’am, it says here that your appointment is at 2 pm.
Client: No it isn’t! It was at 1! I double checked it because I knew I would need to be out somewhere at 3pm! *She had booked an appointment that would take at least 2 hours normally*
Me: I’m sorry, I must have made a mistake in scheduling then. I’ll get there as soon as I can.
(Something seems off to me here, so I double-check the appointment details and there is a note on the appointment, indicating to me that SHE HAD BOOKED THE APPOINTMENT HERSELF which meants that she had to have selected a button that clearly states “2:00 pm” on it. I say nothing and head to the shop early. She was silent the entire appointment but I was nice enough. She left without tipping. The kicker is that I had her out of the shop by 3:15pm and then she had the audacity to rate my business down because I was “Late for the appointment”. )