Napping Kids

text message received June 04, 06:23 pm

"Hey this is Shelley, i'm so sorry for the short notice but something just came up that i have to take care of so i don't think i can help kidnap. I'm sorry, G.L."

I don't know anyone named Shelley...

But now I know who I won't be calling when I need help with my kidnapping capers.

To My Skin a poem by Maranda Miller

They may stare
At your glare
When bared in the Sunday sun,

And unwillingly try
To disguise their despise
At your nonconformity with the bronzed ones.

But I'll be your protector,
I'll deflect what you cannot
Take.

It is both for yours and for my
Sake.

I'm sorry I had to take sides
And hand over our pride to
Masked men in scrubs wielding scalpels,

Who accessorized with sutures;
Frankensteined you out of season.
March is far from October.
But I'm sober now for our future.

These UV's sting and stun and age you.
I've let those B's and A's
Abuse you before.

But not anymore.

Mom sends me these; vitamins A, E and D's.
She sees through my lucidity and
Worries to a motherly degree
About my vampire tendencies.

But she best not fret,
I'll never forget again
To "apply generously."

Two Latino boys came into the salon last night. They were probably around 14 years old, and were all spruced up and smelled suspiciously good. One of them asked if I would do them a huge favor, and let them use some hair gel. I paused to think about this. I've let people do this before, but it's not exactly smiled upon, because those products cost money and technically it's a 'service' we provide and would charge money for 'styling' someone's hair, etc. But I said okay, and asked them to wait there a second while I went around to my station to get the gel. They didn't know how to wait I guess, because they followed me around and 'hovered'; making me a bit uncomfortable. The one who asked for gel asked if I had any Tressemme gel or American Crew gel, but I told him, "No, I can only let you use Regis gel," and handed it to him. He asked a couple more times, thinking I was just holding out on him, not letting him use the good stuff, before I finally convinced him that all he was going to get out of me was Regis gel.

Geez... doesn't he know that when asking a favor of someone, it is extremely rude to be nit-picky?

Meanwhile, the other oafish looking one said he would rather use hairspray, so I got him some hairspray, and he then proceeded to fog up a goodly portion of the air we were breathing. As I wheezed, he turned to look directly at me and asked , "Why are you so pretty?"

"Uhhh. I don't know," was my reply.

I changed the subject quickly and asked them what they were getting all ready for. They said they were meeting their dates in Orem in a little while.
"You forgot to do your hair beforehand?" I asked.

"Yeah," replied the one with the gel, who was using copious amounts of it and had somehow found a comb and was using that too.

"What are you going to do on your date?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer, wondering if guys like this actually planned activities for dates or if 'date' was just another word for 'make out session'.

Luckily he said they would probably be watching a movie. Whew.

Then the oafish one told me I had beautiful hair. I said thank you quietly.
Then he asked me which one of them was prettier. Yes, he said prettier.
I asked if he meant 'more handsome', and he said, "sure... which one is more handsome?"

I told them they were both handsome boys. I didn't want to hurt the oafish one's feelings.

The one still combing gel through his hair then settled it by claiming he was way more handsome.

I love it when weirdo's come in to the salon. It really breaks up the monotony of the day.

The Handy-Man Can

Work was reeeeally boring yesterday. I cannot stress that enough. I had one walk-in men's haircut when I got to work at three, and then didn't have any more clients. Luckily, (haha) my manager is very adept at finding "projects" for me to do around the salon. She saves special projects just for me, and won't assign them to anyone else. They call me "the handyman" of the salon. I have a tool kit my father gave me a few years back, and since I'm the only stylist who always has a set of screwdrivers in the trunk of her car, I was given the nickname. I've taken down shelves, assembled new appliances, fixed broken chairs, replaced old cash drawers, etc. Nothing entirely difficult, but stuff that if it had been left up to one of the other girls to do, then our salon would be falling apart right now.

I admit, I take a little pride in this reputation of mine. I like to feel useful and appreciated. I also like to be able to use the few skills my father taught me when I would help him in the garage or around the house on Saturdays. I like to problem solve and find ways to fix things using just the tools I have and the resources at hand. In this way, I really have become like my father, I suppose. He was a professional at making do with what we had. A couple of examples: when our VCR got old, and stopped accepting tapes, he stripped a couple of wires and voila!All you had to do was touch the wires together, and it would take the tape! We didn't even think this was weird when we were little, but I remember our friends thinking it was crazy. Also, our lawn mower didn't turn off, unless you got a stick and used it to disconnect a spark plug on the side of the mower. Maybe it wasn't a spark plug, but whatever it was, if you tried to use your hands, it would shock you. One day we lent the mower to our friends down the street, and about an hour later I remember getting a phone call from Joey, yelling "How do you turn this thing off?!!" As the mower roared loudly in the background. Oops! Hilarious. Haha.

Well, back to my project. They (Regis corporation) installed these video screens at every station in the salon, with the hopes that they'd be these cool new things that showed videos on how to flat-iron your hair better, which products to buy, random music videos and sports videos, and red-carpet fashion blurbs. Long story short- they were a big fat nuisance that never worked right, were obnoxiously loud, and took up a lot of space which made the salon have this cluttered feel to it. I hated them from the beginning, it's true. Well, back in November, we finally heard that Regis was going to take them out! "Woohoo!"

Months passed.

Nothing happened.

So one Wednesday night a few weeks ago, (it was also reeeeally slow) I decided to take them out myself. I got my tool kit and went to town. It took a good couple of hours almost, but I took every single one out of the walls, and stashed them in boxes in the back of the salon. :) Everyone cheered the next day when they saw what I had done, I got high fives and hip-hip-hooray's! They bought me lunch and let me take the big-tipping clients!

Just kidding. But they were happy, and they said "thank you very much", "you rock", etc.

Yesterday I got to work and my manager said that they finally sent us a kit with directions on how to disassemble them and also sent boxes to use to ship all the parts back to headquarters. So, that was my job. Luckily I'd already done the time intensive part of this project, so all I had to do was box it all up. The letter of explanation they sent was funny, because it apologized that it took so long, they were having trouble getting technicians out to the salons to take out the system, so we would have to do it ourselves. I'm actually surprised they entrusted us with such a big project. Usually the hardest thing they assign stylists to do is install a new ink cartridge in the printer.

Well, anyway, I got that all done, and then just found some cleaning to do the rest of the night because our area supervisor is coming for inspections in a few days, and my manager is freaking out about everything.

The moral of the story is this. Come visit me on Wednesday nights in the salon, because I am most likely bored. I accept all kinds of food, and ice cream. We have a TV and DVD player, and I also enjoy watching movies. Heck, I'd just enjoy the company and conversation. Also, if you come I might give you a free scalp massage... Just think about it.

Chewing the Fat

Making small-talk for six hours a day can really start to get to you sometimes. I'll get so disenchanted with it, that after work I don't want to socialize like a typical college student would, simply because I'm tired of asking people where they are from, what they do for fun, and where they got those neat-o sneakers from. Going on first dates can be real challenge also.

However, this isn't all the time, just occasionally. Don't worry about me becoming an antisocial hermit or anything like that. I still enjoy being around people and making new friends.

Some questions I avoid asking my clients, simply because they are questions I hate answering myself, are:

What kind of music do you like?
What do you like to do for fun/when you're not working?


However, when I come across someone who's not particularly "chatty" I might attempt asking one of these. Such was the case on Saturday, when a man came in for a haircut. He was nice, but kind of quiet. So after getting out of him that he is a woodworker who specializes mostly in custom mantels, but also in furniture... I asked, "So, what do you like to do when you're not working?"

Usually, you get a really boring answer to this question. Like 99 times out of 100 you get a, "Oh nothing much, just hanging with my friends," or "I like to snowboard," or "I don't have any time for hobbies... I'm always working. I don't even have time for this haircut, please hurry up and stop asking me questions." etc...

Well, this guy paused for a moment, then he smiled and said, "Honestly...drink."

You have to appreciate that kind of honesty.

I hope he comes back to me next time.

Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum!

Yesterday at work, a little boy of about 5 came in with his mother and was expected to sit quietly while Amber colored the mother's hair for three hours or so. His name was Jackson. I took him to our little television set near the back of the salon, and showed him our overwhelming selection of videos; Aladdin, Anastasia, and Disney Sing-Along Songs on VHS. I figured the 'manliest' option was Aladdin, but he cried, "No, no, no, no, no." when I suggested we watch that one. "I want the disney one!" (meaning the sing-along tape) Okay. I put it in and rewound it to the beginning, because we were going to need every single one of those 20 musical minutes. With Jiminy Cricket (sp?) narrating, we couldn't go wrong. Jackson's favorite segments were "I wanna Be Like You" from the Jungle Book, and "Look Out for Mister Stork" from Dumbo. (you know, the one where the stork brings all the animal babies to the awaiting circus moms). We identified all of the animals, and I taught him what a stork is, and how it's job is to deliver new babies. He said, "Look! The giant elephant is waiting for her baby, Jumbo!" "Oh! here comes her ears!"(the part when Dumbo sneezes and his ears become huge).

I stayed with him for awhile, but left to watch the front of the salon after he seemed to be doing fine on his own. But a few minutes later one of the girls said, "Maranda. He's asking where the 'pink-shirt' went." I looked down to see I was wearing a very pink shirt that day. So I went back to him and upon seeing me he exclaimed, "Oh! There's my pink-shirt at!" I sat with him until my client came in, and I had to cut some hair. Ten minutes in to the haircut, he was asking for me again, but I didn't hear that part of the conversation. I guess when he asked for the "pink shirt" one of my co-workers pointed to a little girl who was wearing a pink shirt, and said "What about her? Her shirt is pink." To which he replied, "No, no, no, no, no. The GIANT pink shirt!" This part I heard. Giant. Hmmm. Okay.

"We Chase Misprinted Lies"

Survey # 2

If you had to choose, which song would you rather have stuck in your head for the rest of your life?

1) I will Always Love You (whitney houston)
2) Take Me Home, Country Roads (john denver)
3) Sweet Child Of Mine (guns 'n' roses)
and written in was:
4) Nutshell (alice in chains)

What I find humorous about someone writing in the fourth option, is that they wrote it but didn't vote for it. Perhaps it's not what they would choose... they just wondered if anyone else would. Or perhaps they felt my spectrum of options just wasn't encompassing enough.


At any rate, the winner was Sweet Child Of Mine with five votes. Second place goes to Take Me Home with four. And I Will Always Love You with one. Except that girl (accidentally) put fifteen tally's. So, perhaps we should address the fact that although fewer people want Whitney Houston stuck in their heads... the one's that do, REALLY want her in their heads.