When I first started at the last salon I worked at, I was still rebuilding my clientele from my first maternity leave. GOD FORBID a hairstylist takes some time off to have an 8lb. 1oz. box-shaped baby drug out of her vagina with giant salad tongs.
I lost some clients during my maternity leave, then switched salons and lost a few more. It happens.
My first day, my coworkers filled me in on "The Coupon Debacle".
There was this receptionist who I'll call Sherri.
Sherri wasn't the brightest gal you'd ever meet. She was young and pretty, but mostly clueless.
One day, several months before, the Big Brothers/Big Sisters people called the shop and asked to speak to the manager. Boss Lady was busy and told Sherri to "take care of it" (not the smartest move on her part). Apparently, the BBBS people wanted to know if the salon would care to donate a haircut to their fundraiser.
I'm not sure if Sherri gave the go ahead or if Boss Lady gave the nod. Either way, BBBS got their donation. Sounds like a nice thing to do for the good of the community, right?
Yes, except that what they were actually asking for was WAY more than that.
As it turns out, it wasn't just one gift certificate they were asking for. The free haircut was part of a 'coupon book' they were printing up. They sold them around town for $25 to raise money--and there were 1,000 of them.
The $25 people paid for the whole damn booklet wouldn't have covered a single haircut at the salon, and now there were 1,000 of them floating around town.
Feeling bad for Boss Lady, I told her I'd be happy to fill some of my down time (which at that point, I had plenty of) with the free haircut coupon people. I should have kept my mouth shut.
One afternoon I had a coupon cut on my book and didn't think anything of it until she walked in followed by her husband.
She was morbidly obese, dressed in grey jersey knit shorts pulled up almost level with her imposing, unrestrained breasts. The t-shirt was my favorite part: Tweety Bird in a feather boa with the words "HOT STUFF" splayed across the front.
Her husband was a lanky NASCAR aficionado who apparently ate cigarettes and gravel by the looks of his gaping, spittle-covered mouth and yellow skin.
And I was going to have to honor of cutting BOTH of their heads of greasy, nicotine-coated hair because they bought two coupon booklets. Kick ass!
"Mama" went first. She had approximately 7 hairs on her head and they all grew in a different direction. The best part was that her husband felt it necessary to stand next to me, directing the haircut.
"Make sure you git it up hurr (pointing at about ear level). She lahks it short. Don'tcha, Mama?"
I combed and combed those 7 seven hairs, but all I accomplished was a nice collection of some kind of white, pasty/flaky gunk on my comb...and this was after a shampoo. What was really intriguing was the amount of gunk she was able to keep a special secret from me in the folds in the back of her gigantic neck.
Smokey Joe was next. I'm pretty sure the years of not cracking a window to let out some of the smoke permanently changed the organic nature of this man's hair. My clippers groaned against the stiff, tar-laden strands of yuck growing from this man's head.
When they left, they didn't tip me. Not even a fucking dollar. Nothing. They paid $50 for two of those god damned coupon books, but they couldn't muster up at least something for a tip?!
My boss felt so bad about the whole situation, she paid me for the haircuts out of her own pocket.
For Your Scrapbook
- ► 2008 (100)
- Jesus Meme
- Back to Square One
- Amateur Night
- It was worth it
- Do you think they'll roll 12-sided dice at the rec...
- "Hooked on Ejaculation"
- Anatomy 101
- Hee Haw Haircut
- I'm awesome...
- One time I hated my neighbors
- Allllll by myself....
- Write a letter you'll never send
- One time I was a giant crybaby
- ▼ April (15)