Monday, July 16, 2007


I swear on my mother's grave the following is a true story. The names won't even be changed to protect the innocent......
I had the tables turned on me this past Thursday.
Being the lazy ass that I am, I decided on Thursday to go to a beauty shop and get my hair washed and blown dry. It's getting long and I just didn't feel like doing it. I know, I know, the height of laziness. Or I was thinking, maybe it's time for me to turn into one of those old ladies who goes to the hairdresser once a week. (like my mother, God rest her soul, or anyone else of her generation for that matter)
Anyway, I usually get my haircut at Jeffrey's in Lawrenceville and he is a little on the pricey side, so I thought I'll just go to one of those cheap places, after all, they are just washing and drying my hair.
So I walk into Supercuts on Highland Ave. My son had been there earlier in the day and his hair looked alright.
This young boy washed my hair. As he was blowdrying it, he was using a COMB. Yes, a comb. I am thinking, why is he using a comb?
But I let him go. He gets half way through drying my hair and I look like some crazy person (keep comments to oneself, thank you)
Then he proceeds to start spiking my hair with some spray shit.
Now, you all know me, I am a fat, 50 year old conservative dressing white lady , why would I want some hoochie momma hairdo.
So I stop him and say, "You know, this just isn't how I wear my hair, and not what I wanted"
He says"You need products in your hair, everyone needs products"
I say, I don't want crap in my hair. (Just in case anyone wanted to run their fingers through it, yeah, right)
He then throws the COMB down. Just then another stylist comes over and ask's what the problem is. He starts yelling. Yes, yelling.
By then he is telling her to ask me what MY problem is.
Then he gets in my face and asks ME what my problem is.
MY PROBLEM???
Yes, I have lots of problems, but this wasn't one of them. Not by a long shot.
He keeps it up.
I am not one to get intimidated easily. Only one person on this earth turns me into a sissy-la-la, and it wasn't him.
Finally, I turn to the other stylists and say "You better get him away from me"
He keeps it up and keeps it up.
Finally, the other stylists had to throw him out of the salon.
As she finished my hair,(Which, by the way, she did a great job) he was outside pacing back and forth.
I was a little afraid to leave the building. Can you believe it?
Me, afraid.
She assured me I would be fine.
I left with the manager and owners phone numbers.
The manager called me back the next day and in the understatment of the century called him unprofessional.
Unprofessional?
How about criminal lady.
She said it would not be taken lightly and she would let me know what happens.
I have yet to hear from her.
I just wonder, what the problem was? I was paying him to dry my hair as I wanted it done. He was not paying me to be there.
That's a whole other subject. Young people in the service industry. They just don't get that people pay them for services and if they don't get customers, the place usually closes and they no longer have a job.
This incident really spooked me. I don't think I conveyed what a nut this guy was.
The whole beauty shop thing got me thinking about my mother. I could have been lying in Zalewski's Funeral Home and she still would not have missed her Friday 10:00 am hair appointment at Ruth and Fran's on Butler Street.
Half of it was worring that someone would see her with her hair "A Mess". The other half of it would be that she missed out on the gossip of the week.
She would come home with all sorts of info that "They" said down the beauty shop. I never did find out who "They" were. But "They" knew all. She would have had a field day telling them about how I was treated last week at the "Beauty Parlor"
I am sure "They" never would have treated a customer like that!!!

Not to change the subject, but wait till you hear this:
We now have a southern chapter of AMG.
My friend Ruth, who was in town for last week's AMG has started a southern chapter. They even have a blog n'aht.
Here is the link if you guys want to check it out.
http://southernangermanagement.blogspot.com/


Hmm, where to go this week? Any ideas?

2 comments:

Southern Anger Management said...

Dear Irene McQuillen,
Thank you so much for recognizing our organization in your blog. It is exciting joining the ranks of such celebrated socialites.
Last night I received a frantic phone call from Paris. She is feeling neglected. I told her that she just doesn't qualify for membership. It hit her hard. She cried, and I suggested a 12 step program for her, but she said she'd need new shoes for exercise. so gals just don't get it, do they?
Tele-drinking is a fantastic concept. We will be meeting on Thursday at noon. I'll call you then. You know, we should be careful or cell carriers will steal our thunder.
RMB

Ruth B said...

Irene McQuillan,
Please don't change a thing in your Blog-O-Sphere. It is lavish, yet understated.
Humble, yet bold.
Immune, yet virulent.

Ruti
PS
Do you have a gmail account?
Some messages that Blogger.Com presents while you set up an account states that you need a Gmail [google] email. Yet, if my memory serves me, and anymore it is flirting with not receiving a tip, you have a Yahoo.Com email account. Did that hold you back any? Inquiring minds need to know.