Anyway, I walk in and the young lady says ' can I help you?' Hmmm, I walked in to a hair cut place maybe I am here for a haircut. Maybe ask if I have a referal, or a preference or anything but 'can I help you' might not be best. I simply say, I would like a cut please. Reply: ok someone will be right with you. Now we have 4 ppl wearing smocks (sp?) Walking around doing nothing, I assume smocks mean they work there.. One grabs a broom, not sure what she was sweeping, I was the only ' customer' in the place and didn't see anyone leave. The sweeper lays the broom against the wall and walks into the back. Now all 4 smockers are back there chit chatting as I wait for my effing haircut. They are back there just chatting it up like they have nothing to do, I can hear them as my blood pressure goes up. Eachpassing second is making me more aggrevated. Ok here they come out of the room we will call them bleachy 1, bleachy 2, and sausage hands. I don't know what happened to smocky #4. I have been here before and sausage fingers cut my hair, he did a good job but his hands are so big and disgusting that I was praying he didn't walk up front. I have no problem with dudes cutting my hair, in fact uncle G has done it for the past few years (except once when fingers did it), alas that effer moved away, fooey. Ok, I know I am rambling. Fingers sits down with bleachy 2 and bleachy 1 comes up front, PJ? Yeah, lady nobody else is in here. I am pretty aggrevated but my non cut hair looked terrible so I had to be nice. The last thing you want to do is piss off the person who is about to cut your hair by saying something like: don't you idiots have a manager or owner or anyone who is interested in repeat customers or making money, ugh. I sat in that seat just hoping that one of the three would stumble along my blog and wonder, was that us, do my hands look like sausage, should I not bleach my hair, do customers pay my bills, do I work for tips, do I belong in a customer service industry--Idiots.
I will make this one quick. Wifey and I didn't plan dinner last night. We run to the diner to grab something quick. Halfway thru dinner I am thristy like crazy, and say to my wife if you see the waitress can you wave her down. Wifey, waves out the window so I turn and there she is outside looking at a car. Guess that water isn't coming soon -- I wonder if she can cut hair?
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