Yesterday I went to a new salon and a new stylist for a new hairdo.
My stylist was awesome! She was young and cool. She had a lot of tattoos. She asked a lot of questions. She looked me in the eye. She really listened to me. I told her I did not want a bob. I told her she could do anything she wanted. ANYTHING! I told her I was funky and fun and that I wanted something to reflect my personality. We spent the afternoon together chatting and processing and primping and fluffing ....
... and 4 hours later,
I walked out with a bob.
What the hell?
Not only do stylists seem to not listen, I have been to more than a handful of salons in the last few years that do not include a tip line on the receipt. Which I always seem to forget in the 9 months between appointments. In an industry that expects tipping, I cannot understand why it is nearly impossible for a customer to do so! So, not only am I paying a great deal for the one hairdo I specifically said I didn’t want, I can’t even leave a tip for my new stylist.
So, I went to a nearby ATM where I promptly forgot my PIN. After 5 attempts to remember the exact 4 digits in the exact sequence, the ATM told me to back away slowly.
I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t have enough cash to give her a tip. I was freaking out and feeling like a schmuck who can’t get any money and doesn’t leave a tip in a nice salon. I honestly did not know what to do.
So I went to the bar.
Three beers and several onion rings later, my card was denied while I was in the bathroom!
Are you kidding me?
I knew it was some gallant security measure since someone had just attempted to withdraw money from my account, but that did not make it any less embarrassing! Meanwhile, my friend paid the tab and gave me the shameful news about my card.
To put a big dollop of pink icing on this little cupcake, the unattractive, unpleasant, older bartender - who refused to look me in the eye - thanked my friend vigorously and, yes, hit on her!
I have a freaking bob.