So Long, Bridezilla!

Because of my new job at work, I won't be doing brides in the future, and that made me a little wistful. One of the things I love about being a hairdresser is that transformation of an ordinary woman into a beauty on her wedding day. A happy bride just glows, and it's really rewarding to be a part of that day, especially for a client I've known for a long time. And then there are some brides that give all brides a bad name, and it is these Bridezillas that I will be very, very happy to not have to deal with any more.

I answered the phone at work today, and a young woman on the other line asked if this was the place where Mrs. Loudshoes worked. I said yes, it was, and in fact, it was me to whom she was speaking.

She went on to say that I had done a friend of her's hair and makeup for her wedding two years ago, and that she loved the job I had done and she wanted me to do her and her party for her wedding this summer. I replied that I no longer did styling and makeup, but that I would be happy to recommend someone else at the salon for her. This was met with a brief silence and then a frosty "you're kidding me, right?". I assured her that I was not trifling with her sanity on any level, that I perform a different job at the salon now, which does not include styling or make up. The young lady turned up the charm a notch or two, by saying "so, you do still work there, you just won't do my wedding". I was tempted to argue with her on the semantics of the idea of free will and choice, but settled for "as I said, I have a different job now, and don't do any weddings any more." "But you could, you just won't", came the reply. Seriously, it was all I had not to ask "does this sort of thing ever work for you? Because, trust me, you do not want me working on you now. I'll make you look like the hooker bride of Ronald McDonald."

(She didn't say, but I kind of got the vibe that she was "from Toronto". When someone calls up and says "hi, I'm from Toronto, and I need to make an appointment", we start hating them right then. Because when a client feels the need to tell us they are "from Toronto" right off the bat, it really translates into "I'm used to a better class of service and style, which I seriously doubt you will be able to provide in this provincial backwater I have had the great misfortune to find myself in. Please be assured that I will expect great things from you, but I'm sure you will be unable to deliver. Proceed." It's very tiresome. That isn't to say we dislike clients that originate from Toronto, far from it; everybody's money is good at our salon, and we have lots of clients who come back from Toronto just to get their hair done with us. But we reserve a special kind of dislike from the pretentious, snotty clients that prepare us for their superiority and refinement with the preface "I'm from Toronto". The ones from Montreal are even worse. )

Anyway, the young woman, who, I might add, has never been to the salon before, told me she was very disappointed (like that was going to change my job) and that she had never heard of a salon that refused business before. I repeated that I would be happy to recommend someone else, but she wanted none of that; "But I want you!" she barked, and hung up. By this point I was pretty much against having her in the salon ever.

I have to admit, it gave me a small but very satisfying thrill to be able to say "no" to that young woman, and her not be able to do anything about it. I feel like I was able to strike one small victory against a Bridezilla, for hairdressers everywhere. Even the ones from Toronto.