28 September 2009

"You can't always get what you want" --The Rolling Stones

Sunday, I go to get my hair re-evaluated and possibly cut at a recommended salon where two stylists cluck sympathetically at me and say things like "Oh, my!" and "Where did you have it done?" and "You mean it's been a month already?! You poor thing."

But before all that, I find myself at the door of the salon half an hour early* so I decide to get myself an iced tea next door.**

Clerk #1 is standing behind the cash register. Clerk #2 is three feet away. Clerk #1 is just standing and staring. Not at me. Perhaps she is dreaming of a glittery vampire.

Me, after waiting a minute: Good morning.

Clerk #1, in a flat, disgusted tone, like I am one of those "Save the Children" kids and I have way too many flies landing on me***: Hi.

Me, smiling: How are you?

Clerk #1, in same disgusted tone with a new hint of irritation, as if to say "How dare you speak to me with your marmot hair": I'm fine. Can I help you?

Me, looking back at board of options: I'd like a peach iced tea, please.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2, with the same Ben Stein delivery: Peach iced tea.

Clerk #2, equally enthusiastically: Small or large?

Me: Small is fine.

A minute passes.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Do we have any more peach?

Clerk #2: No.

Clerk #1 to me, as if I wasn't standing a foot away this whole time: We don't have any more peach.

Me, obligingly: Oh.

Clerk #1, sighing: We have raspberry.

Me: Um, no. How about just regular iced tea...

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Regular iced tea.

Clerk #1 to me: Small or large?

Me, thinking I only wanted a small of the preferred kind and now that I have to accept a lesser tea you think I'm going to want more?: Small is fine.

Clerk #1 to Clerk #2: Small.

Clerk #1 rings up the sale. Clerk #2 gives me my tea.

I scout around for the straw dispenser and find it farther back along the narrow aisle that is the customers' side of the counter. I get my straw. Someone else gets their share of joy from Thing 1 and Thing 2 and as I am coming to pass this customer, she drops a bagel, which causes her to simultaneously bend down and back up into me thrusting her buttal region in my general direction. This causes me to do a twisty side step, inadvertently hip-checking the basket of baguettes which topple over onto the floor.

Me, horrified and trying to reach for the basket which is now blocked behind the other customer's expansive buttal region: I'm so sorry!

Clerk #1 and Clerk #2 ignore us, continuing to stare into space. The other customer lifts the basket of baguettes off the floor and rights it. Mmmm, floor bread.

Moral: Never go anywhere with marmot hair.

* Stupid Metro never delays when you need it to.

** True confession: I may have said "ice tea" instead of "iced tea" until very recently. At least I didn't say pacific for specific. I know people that do that! I do! OMG! Right?!

***More than three is gauche.


A said...

I will still adore you, even if you have muskrat hair.

Kate said...

THose kind of situations just make me want to retreat to my closet and rock under a blanket.

Liebchen said...

That kind of relaying messages from three feet away drives me crazy.

Actually, that kind of "customer service" in general drives me crazy.

The Bug said...

Oh, you expected customer SERVICE? You cheeky wench!

I'm in hair limbo. I have soliticed opinions from the known universe (except my bloggie folks - hmmm - I sense a new post in my future). To bang or not to bang? The "wispy" bangs my next-to-last stylist (next-to-last for a reason)thought we'd try are out of control. Do I grow them more, or cut them off at the knees? Can I just shave my head please?

Hannah said...

LOL! I had a similar experience this weekend while in the retail/coffee shop circuit. It really feels like they actively try to make the whole shopping experience as miserable as possible! :P

f.B said...

haha. you said "buttal." twice.

anyway, the Things sound really, really sad... about everything.

Little Ms Blogger said...

I love how you named the clerks Thing 1 and Thing 2.

So, how is the hair looking now?

Bilbo said...

Wanna trade hair? You can have my bald spot. Cheap. And I'm with f.B. - love the term "buttal region."

mylittlebecky said...

outwardly angry food service people make me insane... and i have annoying allergies as well. fun times! i probably eat a lot of spit.

Mike said...

It must be something in the air. Last Friday a group I was with had a waiter that seemed to be annoyed that he had to do his job and wait on us.

LiLu said...

I had to google "marmot". Thanks for my daily dose of the fugly.

Barbara said...

You have to admit working in a place like that would be a helluva job. But that doesn't really excuse rudeness to any customer, regardless of quantity, thickness, color, or any other quality of hair. I'm always annoyed as a customer when the person "serving" me goes through the necessary motions while carrying on a non-stop conversation with another employee as though I'm invisible.

Good luck with your hair. Hair really defines a person's self-image. Mine is feeling thin and flat right now, which tends to piss me off. I think "volumizing" is false advertising.

lacochran said...

A: You are too kind for words.

Kate: Most situations make me want to do that.

Liebchen: Glad I'm not the only one.

The Bug: It's so tempting to just buzz it all off, isn't it. Let us learn from how bad Britney looked.

Hannah: Can we start a conspiracy theory on this? Can we please? Pleeeease?

f.B: I did. Buttal. *snicker* Yeah, you're probably right... sad.

Little Ms Blogger: I'm glad you were amused. It has days when it looks okay and days when even a whip and a chair won't get it to comply.

Bilbo: Does your buttal region come with your bald spot?

mylittlebecky: I hope it's tasty spit. You know... at least.

Mike: How dare you make him earn his living!

LiLu: My pleasure, Missy.

Barbara: It does make it sound like you have a bicycle tire pump inflating it.

bettyl said...

With all the things that go through your mind at moments like that, sometimes the people are not worth the effort of a response.