My daughter and I decided to get haircuts before going to the concert today so as we have in the past, we went to the local beauty school because it's super inexpensive. Thus far, my daughter has loved every cut/styling she's got there and while I've only left with different levels of bad haircuts, I have no real emotion about such and it usually works itself out after I get back home and wash it then within a few days to a week of growth, it's all fine-ish.
My daughter was super unhappy with her cut/style today but the emotional outbreak was minor and only lasted until I got her back home where she restyled it and was over the hump. Me, I never really cared that my cut/style was awful but aside from the fact that the stylist was effervescing as if she'd accomplished something great and was proud to let her client leave looking the way I did (it was pretty bad- a mousse helmet in effect).
Forgetting the horrible job at cutting and styling, let me tell you about the levels of inappropriate that she was. Oh wait! At the beginning, I felt my head shaking to the point where I was almost worried that I may have either been stroking out or having a major panic attack but there were no other symptoms of either and I was pretty calm - so I kind of ignored it until I realized it wasn't me at all, the SIT (stylist in training) was shaking like a _________________ (fill in the blank and think something very shaky).
You know how there's always small talk, so I played along. She made some comment about how my hair was so nice and soft and naturally wavy in the middle of what I thought was a conversation about family. I had mentioned to her at some point that my dad was bald except for one of them horseshoes around the back of his head but still went to his barber all the time. I then mentioned that my brother had a bit of a balls spot but it seems to have skipped me so far. She then went on the say, and I quote, "so, your brother was the ugly duckling and you - you were the ho...handsome one." ***WHAT!*** I replied, "Hey, you just dissed my brother, that isn't cool. He a handsome fellow, just with less hair than me." From that point on, she got a little too touchy-feely and it was starting to get a bit creepy. Don't misunderstand, she didn't put her hands down my pants or anything like that, but the seemingly unnecessary hand on the shoulder then slide down to the chest was a bit much and definitely inappropriate.
When she went to was my hair, she said, "do you prefer a scrub or a massage?" I really had no idea what the hell that meant, I came in for a haircut - not a laundry/massage. I told her I had no idea "what the hell that means" and to just wash my hair the way you wash a customer's hair and let's put a wrap on this to which she replied, "if you like, first I can scrub, then I can massage." ***REALLY?*** Who the heck was this SIT and where the heck was the supervising faculty?
Finally, back to the chair and she's trying to decide which product to use then asked if I had a preference. I mentioned that I use a pomade. She went off to get a pomade, put some on her fingers then said something that I can't quote verbatim because I don't even wanna think that she could even have gone there but said she didn't want to use that one in my hair because it reminded her of some thing sticky. She went and got another pomade and was unpleased with the feel of that...I then said, "Look, I gotta go, this is the oddest cut I've ever got...please, finish in the next 30 seconds."
She looked at me through the mirror, which was was way creepier than I thought it could be and almost begged, "can I please use some mousse?" She ran, and I mean ran, full speed to go fetch some mousse and put a wad of it - the size of a damn softball on her hands then went to freaking town with the entire wad of it on my head. What a damn mess but after she announced she was done and removed my cape, I ran to my kid and got the hell out of there.
There's a part of me that feels compelled to report her behavior to her supervisor. Is that an overreaction?