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I've been a hairdresser for WAY TO LONG! Hairdresser's are known for their "social partying" I wonder why...
credit given to original author if known
I have recently switched to the cubicle side of the work world. This also is a fucking joke.
Anyway. I worked in a salon that was in business for over 30 years. That means... the same ladies that worked at one time and are now retired have the SAME APPOINTMENT TIMES! The same hairstyle, hairpieces etc...
Florence: the spinster-retired accountant - got her five minutes of fame by rammin' her car into the front of someone's home, UPSIDE DOWN. (made front page) This client's head would shake - she never did tell me what the fuck was wrong with the bobbing head. I challenge ANYONE to perm that fine head of hair. Man, I was good!
Pat: had a total of, probably, 3 hairs and purchased AND glued on (black glue with red hair) two strips of hair on her head and had the magician (me)! make her presentable to the world. Man, I was good!
Marie: used to shit every other week on the toilet seat; and because she was all mine, I had to don the rubber gloves and clean and disinfect the toilet. Man, I'm an IDIOT!
Mrs. White was about 100 and could hardly walk and DROVE A FUCKING CAR! The list goes on and on..
Miss Ann was a retired school teacher; she was at one time married to some college professor that was probably dead WAY before we were a "twinkle" in our parent's eyes.
I live in Chicago and she lives in a suburb known to be "ritzy," Hinsdale. Her son (has to be one of the ugliest mo-fo's I've ever set my eyes on) brought her to me for holidays. If you are in the "biz" that means... Christmas, Mother's Day and Easter!!! on Saturday! Yes, Saturday! The busiest day for old people to come and get their hair done. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED all my clients (hence, the fact that I own all kinds of yellowed tupperware; Christmas shit etc...(circa mid 60's) - they loved me back)!
Miss Ann carried a lot of money in her tattered black zippered pouch. I'm a softy; I've never charged the right amount! If I love you, you can get a FREE haircut... but I digress.
Miss Ann, only came to me three times a year. NO ONE combed or washed her hair in between! I could smell her "Archie Bunker" chair all the way to the shop. ( I know that shit from 'chitchat') Let me tell you something... if you don't massage the scalp dermatitis builds up!!!!! The next person to touch it is in for a derma snow storm.
Sooo it being a Saturday and me being a social butterfly I went out Friday. I drank like Mr. Ron Bacardi was never gonna produce anymore rum for the planet! Miss Ann is "penciled in"... Nice! I have to take her hand from her ugly son and walk her to a safe place...
I finally get to Miss Ann, (her fucking neck doesn't reach the shampoo bowl - there is a lot of shit I have to do so I don't get her what-was-white sweater wet. It's called the "going to get hair done" sweater) into action. The shop is about a million degrees with all the dryers going.
I'm fucking still drunk, hot and wishing I was dead. She smells and tells me, Alex, I have to pee! I instantly ask... Miss Ann, don't you have a diaper on? (not in the mood for this) Yes, but I have to pee! Ok- I take off all of my "prepatory" shit..... C'mon! I can't get her up! She says... "it's okay" Me, hungover and HOT! I say "OK."... and let her sit there.
I wash that seborrhea head three times and try to comb out the tangles to no avail, this is gonna take more work at my station. I'm hungover and hot (oh I sad that) I take my comb ( my fav's happen to be black) and fight the MESS. Trying not to bring up too much dermatitis. I don't want to make her head sensitive for the perm solution. Yellow scales keep showing up on my comb. I brush it off on the towel that I have around her neck, trying not to vomit. I'm SO NOT IN THE MOOD FOR THIS! I roll her head up in the blue perm rods - toss the comb....
... time passes.
She's cut and rollers in head.... she's under the dryer... she has alzheimers....she sit's there counting her money. I have to keep looking at her because she keeps dropping money. She has about $700 in the tattered
wallet. I have to stop what the fuck I'm doing to pick up her money and put it back in her wallet. I have to zip it and put it back in her pocket and tell her to be still. I'm working my hungover-ass off on MANY other clients but I have to baby-sit Miss Ann.
Next I see a puddle on the floor. Piss! I Thank God- because this must be some fucking way of testing my patience........ Miss Ann wears polyester - probably bought some time in the 70's - it runs down her leg and puddles on the floor. Obviously, this type of material is resistant to liquid. I'm teasing some old lady's hair and solving the world's problems and notice this! What do I do? I finish the old bag's head and get my well deserved tip and fetch Miss Ann.
I pull her up and walk her to my chair. Mis Ann is leaving piss shoe marks on the tile as I guide her to my chair. The piss had puddled in her left shoe! I sit her down and KNOW I have to go sanitize the chair and floor.... but some other old lady had taken the seat. I'm standing there with my thumb up my ass wondering 'should I make her move and clean it?' or just FUCK IT? Well, the latter came over me. I don't like you anyway.
Rollers out of head and now I'm covered in snow! Yes, my friends, dermatitis snow! it's allover my face, clothes and it's in my nasal passages! I hate you people that don't take care of your parents! I have a vow.........When I get grey hair, I'm going to sit in a beauty salon and piss on my self!!
Oh, and I'm gonna DRIVE there!