Telemarketing Follies

From time to time, meaning, at least once an hour, we get a phone call at work from a telemarketer. Lots and lots of phone calls from people who want to speak to the Mister and get him to buy something, or sign up for something, or donate something or give them something.
I get that telemarketing must be the most miserable of all jobs on God's green earth. No one wants to be a telemarketer; I imagine they've fallen into it because fate has consipired againste them, they were desperate and had no other choice, sort of like a Victorian prostitute. Really, you won't find any seven-year-olds proclaiming that when they grow up, they want to be a telemarketer.

And I get that that's their job, to get to the Mister.  Just as it is the receptionist at work's job to make sure they don't ever get anywhere near the Mister. And the receptionist at work, Barb, takes this aspect of her job deadly seriously. The only time the Mister has to deal with a telemarketer is when Barb is off on vacation, or when she's reallly pissed at him.

She is always (well, usually) very polite and says the Mister is busy with a client, and if they leave their name and number, she will pass it on. She usually pretends to take down the information and that's the end of it. On occasion, they are on to her, and ask if they can call back another time, when he's available to come to the phone, and she politely says "no", without explanation. That often gets a puzzled silence on the other end of the phone before they say "okay" and hang up. Once a telemarketer, who was already having a pretty bad day, snotted that we had a funny way of doing business, and she'd appreciate if Barb would just get the Mister already and stop screwing around. Barb hung up on her, and then called the company back and pitched the mother of all hissy fits. I'm pretty sure that young woman isn't in telemarketing any more.

Most of the time, you can tell when the telemarketing company has no idea who or what they are calling. If they use the Mister's name at all, they usually get it wrong, or assume he's a woman. (In that case, Barb tell's them she's the Mister, and expidites matters. It's all in the name of efficiency.) I like the ones who call asking if they can speak to the "Head of Accounts Recievable", or "the Manager in Charge of Human Resources". We are a hair salon with 12 employees, 11 of whom are women:  ALL of us think we are in charge of Human Resources. And I guess Barb is the head of Accounts Recievable, because she's the one who knows how to work the debit machine.
I  like when they try to sell us things like calendars and pens as "client and employee incentives". Seriously? How awful is your job when you are inspired by a crappy pen with your company's name on it? (I know!! A You're a telemarketer!) Our staff is way more likely to find incentive in a plate of natchos or a Lululemon gift certificate.
We are a very low tech operation.

Barb has told people that the Mister won't tell her when he's coming in to work, that he's on vacation and she doesn't know when he'll be back, or that he's been too busy to come to the phone. She's toyed with the idea of telling people he's in rehab or a the casino.

 I've suggested that she use my brother's standard phrase when we were teenagers and someone would call looking for me: "She went crazy and we had to shoot her."

That should shut them up. It worked for my brother.

Crunch Time

Could somebody stop this month please? I'd like to get off.

I realized a number of years ago that June is a bit of a slog....it's hellishly busy and you hemmorhage money. May is fine, July is wonderful, but June has far too much going on, and it all costs a fortune. Believe me, it's not that I don't want to do any of the things I'm involved in, I could easily say "no", but I want to do everything, and it's all jammed into those 30 days.

One year the Loudshoes family had so much going on in June that I actually had to write things in the margins of the calendar, because all the little squares were all filled up. This year I've worked an extra couple of days, we had to go to a funeral and the garden needs a lot of attention.

Work has been fairly busy,which is good because I will need the money for our holidays. I gave up a LONG time ago trying to figure out when we'd be busy and not busy, it seems to careen from "boring" to "frantic" within hours. I've been trying to get myself ready for a weekend away, and Thing 2 is graduating elementary school, which means an entire new outfit for her, too.

Thing 2 went to Montreal with her Grade 8 class last week, for 4 days. I got her up at 4:30 in the freaking morning, to catch the bus out of town at 5:30. Naturally, she had to get up that early to straighten her hair and put on some makeup. What a difference 35 years makes! My priority at 4:30 in the morning is to get some coffee into me, preferably intravenously, and not frighten small children.

As was the case when Thing 1 went three years ago, they did not want any parent volunteers for this trip, which was fine by me...I'd have gone if they needed me, but experience has told me that you if you can avoid 8 hours of driving in a production of "Hormones on Wheels", you should do so.

She came home on Friday evening, malnourished from a 4-day, vegetable-and-fibre-free, junk-food binge, and exhausted from talking for 96 hours straight.

Then the Mister and I took off for Montreal the next day. He and I and the staff from the salon went to see a hair awards show.We took the train this time, which was fabulous....you can drink on a train, which they frown on when you are driving, plus there is the added bonus of being able to go the bathroon whenever you want and NOT when your husband decides you should need to go to the bathroom. We had a good time, but maybe the other people in the car did not.

The hair show itself is pretty boring, but the people watching is only spectacular.....I tell you, hair dressers are great value for money, they do NOT disappoint. Think of it, a room full of a thousand people desperate to be the center of attention, and all of them very good at it. You hardly know where to look. Everyone is dressed up and dying to be seen...the shoes alone are worth the price of admission. And that's just the gay guys! The picture above is the Mister and I all cleaned up and ready for public consumption.

The train ride home was fine, except I had to sit beside a 9-year old boy who either need to be medicated or is just incredibly obnoxious. He didn't sit still for the entire 6 hours to Toronto, he shouted at his mother incessently and he spilled a bottle of water on me. I think maybe karma was paying me back for the use of my "outside voice" on the train on Saturday evening.

Next week is Thing 2's graduation, a dinner out, and a memorial service to go to. At least they all involve food. And come July, it will be all over, and life will settle down again. Stop me if I complain about being bored, okay?

Heads Up.

I knew when I went into hairdressing that my feet would hurt and I might have to deal with some strange people. I was a bit surprised at how much wear and tear my hands had to take, and how much money people think I make. (To be clear, I do not pocket the entire sum you pay for your haircut.) But one of the things that did surprise me when I started hairdressing, is how strange and varied people's head shapes are. Seriously, you'd be amazed at how many peculiarly formed some people's heads are, and, here's the kicker, they don't even know themselves! They think their heads are perfectly normal. As do you, probably.

I remember shampooing one woman's head and, as my fingers moved to the back of her head from just above her ears, my hands were moving towards each other at an entirely impossible angle; her head was absolutely triangular. Like, I didn't know if she could ever sleep on her back, triangular. That occipital bone (that lump about half way down the back of your head) is supposed to run parallel to the ground, not perpendicular. It was like shampooing a block of cheese.
Another client I saw once had an occipital bone that stuck way out from her head, way more than was usual. She could easily smuggle a couple of ounces of pot under her hair and no one would ever notice.

Sometimes I would put my hands in someone's hair to run it into the basin, and lo and behold, their head looked normal sized, but it turns out they had ridiculous amounts of hair and a teeny-weeny little head under all that! It was like finding an egg in a bearskin rug.

I have one client that I pray never needs to shave her head, because her head is round enough, but so bumpy and bony, it would look like her head was molded out of clay by monkeys.

Occasionaly, you come across divots and troughs in people's heads, weird little dips and dents that are quite alien. Sometimes they are because of surgery, but mostly, their just because nature has a sense of humor.

I also had a client who's head was perfectly cubic. Like a robot. It was really easy to cut his hair, though, because all the surfaces were entirely flat. How he bought hats I'll never know.

Some heads are pointy, some are huge and some are really long from front to back. Luckily, nobody knows they have a weirdly shaped head until someone tells them. But I'll bet their mothers know.

We Need To Talk....

Dear Formerly Fabulous Client,

You know, this has been great, it really has, but I think it's become clear to us both that this just isn't working any more.

We used to have such a great time together; I'd do your hair and you'd really like it and then you'd over tip me and and we'd have a blast the whole time. I used to really look forward to seeing your name in the appointment book, and you couldn't wait to come in and have your hair done.

Maybe I've been taking you for granted, giving you the same highlights over and over again. Maybe I should have pushed you to try something different. Maybe I'm just not adventurous for you.....(I really do think that a whole head bleach application is a bad idea.) And it's been getting longer and longer between appointments.....I'll confess, once or twice I thought you might be seeing someone else behind my back.

But lately, you've been booking appointments and not showing up. Or cancelling at the last minute. And let's be honest here, you have been a big fat drag when you do show up; hung over and cranky with very greasy hair. And your boyfriend is a jackass and I'm tired of hearing about it. And it's becoming more and more obvious that we are just not good for each other any more.

So, Client, I think we should see other people. Really, it's for the best. I'm sure another hairdresser will be much less concerned that you sleep in past every. single. freaking. Saturday appointment, and leave a hole in her day the size of a Buick. Some hairdresser's don't mind that. Unfortunately, I do.

Good luck to you, and I'm hoping we can still be friends. Take care, and stay away from the 40 volume peroxide.

Thanks,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Things Your Hairdresser Doesn't Tell You

Like any profession or industry, hairdressing has it’s insider info that we tend to keep to ourselves. Magicians don’t tell you how they do their tricks and we don’t tell you how we water down the shampoo.

1. You know those jars of blue disinfectant you see on the counters? All for show. We hardly ever use them. Apart from the fact that I don’t have time between clients to put every tool in, leave it for 10 minutes and then rinse and dry them, I’m using clean tools on clean scalps, and there’s no need to go through all that. I’ve never heard of Dengue fever or Ebola virus being transmitted by hair. If someone has a scalp condition, then of course I’d clean my combs and brushes off right smart, but for the vast majority? Nah.

2. For the most part, shampoo is shampoo. The only real differences between the stuff you buy at the salon and the stuff you get at the drug store is the amount of water in the bottle. (Salon stuff is more concentrated.) I will say, though, that most clients don’t diagnose their hair properly, and often buy the wrong stuff, which can make problems worse; at least a hairdresser can steer you in the right direction. Also, if you colour your hair, you may want to get your shampoo from the salon; shampoos for colour treated hair really do help keep if from fading. But the difference between a $8 shampoo and a $30 shampoo is negligible.

3. If I don’t have a last appointment booked, I can go home early. If you ask book my last appointment and ARE LATE for it, expect me to be very, very efficient.

4. Rubber necks and moving heads piss us off like you would not believe. If I put your head in a particular position so that I can get at it better, please don’t bounce it right back up. And there’s no need to turn around to talk to me when I’m working behind you, I can hear you just fine. I can’t tell you how many times I have narrowly missed clipping and ear because someone moved their head just as I was closing the scissors. (And just to tell you, we do cut people’s ears sometimes…and those things bleed like the shower scene in “Psycho”.)

5. Unlike doctors and priests, we have no “Code of Confidentiality”. If you tell us something embarrassing or gossipy or hilarious, you can bet that will be bandied around the staff room at the first available opportunity.

6. Just because a hairdresser wins awards and competitions does not always mean that they are a really really good hairdresser. It means that they are very good at winning awards and competitions. Hairdressing competitions have very little to do with what goes on day to day in a salon, so if you go and get your hair done by someone who recently won an award, you may be surprised that they don’t win awards on your head.

But you didn't hear it from me.

Dos and Don'ts At the Hair Salon

I've worked in a hair salon for 27 years now, so I'm pretty sure how to behave there. Judging from the number of questions I get about hair salon ettiquette, it's a mysterious and murky subject, fraught with potential faux-pas, and immiment embarrassment. I had no idea. But, I have no clue how to behave at the monster truck rally or at Chinese New Year, so we all have our gaps.
So, as a public service, I offer up the following:

DO:

• Tip the shampoo girl. She doesn't make much, and you will make her day with a two dollar tip. And no, you don't have to tip the owner. In fact, you don't have to tip anyone, it's not a restaurant. (But we really do appreciate it.)
• Come on time. Our number one pet peeve, clients who breeze in 10 minutes late with a Starbucks latte in their hand and have to make a phone call before we start.
• Bring a picture of what you want. It's great to have a starting point in the consultation, even if the starting point is "there is no way in hell I can make any part of you look like Angelina Jolie. Not even your bangs".
• Have an idea of what you want. Saying "I don't know" makes me crazy and you look like a ditzy idiot. Of course you have some idea of what you want; at least you have some idea of what you don't want, don't make me pull it out of you.
• Have a time in mind when you book your appointment. Seems simple, I know, but you wouldn't believe the number of people who call, say they'd like a haircut, and then get all flustered and confused when we ask when they would like it. It's not exactly a surprise question, you know.
• Be discreet. This isn't a big city, and the person in the chair next to you can hear you perfectly well. And that might be your cousin's neighbour who works with your husband who knows who you are, but you don't know who she is. And now she's heard all about the cat hair cookies she supposedly brought to the company Christmas party.
• Eat before you come. I can't cut hair and not get it in your salad, I'm sorry. Physics and all.
• Ask when you book the appointment how long it will be if your time is tight. I don't know how many clients have freaked out because they still have foils in their hair and they have to pick up their kids in 10 minutes. We work on a schedule and it's fairly predictable, all you have to do is ask.
• Change into one of the gowns provided if you are getting colour done (to protect the collar of your shirt) or if you don't want little bits of hair down your back for the rest of the afternoon. Really, that's what they are there for. You can ask to change if it's not offered.
• Complain if there's something you're unhappy about. If we can fix it, believe me, we will. If we can't fix it, we'd certainly like the opportunity to make it right. Our feelings aren't that delicate.

DON'T:

• Lift your head when you are getting shampooed. You're not really helping me as much as you think when you do that. Now, as well as getting all the soap out, I have to make sure I don't shoot water right down your back and get the waistband of your underwear all wet.
• Ask to be squeezed in. There are only so many hours in a day. Mine are full; if I've said I'm booked, that means I don't have any more time available. If I did, I'd say "I can book you in for 2 0'clock. See how that works?
• Tell me about every bad hairstyle you've had since your mother cut your bangs in 4th grade. I don't need to know, it's not a medical history. The only hairstyle of yours that is important to me is the one I'm working on right now. And as for hair colour, I really only want to know about the hair on your head. Seriously.
• Tell me about every lousy hairdresser you've ever had in your entire life. I'm doing my best. And the common denominator in that story is you.
• Cross your legs when you're getting a haircut, particularly a haircut, like a bob, that depends on being very straight across the back. It throws out your posture when you cross your legs at the knees, and makes for some asymmetry that's not always pleasing.
• Ask for a discount. Your discount means a pay cut for me personally, because I get paid on commission. I may not be able to afford that, or want to do that, and you asking me in a very public place puts me in an uncomfortable situation that makes me really, really not want to do you any favors.
• Feel like you have to make conversation. You don't have to be my entertainment committee, you can just relax and enjoy the first opportunity you've probably had in some time to sit in one spot and not say anything.
• Bring your dog to your appointment. I can't believe I have to say that.

Now, I hope your next hair cut will be all the more pleasant. You're welcome.

Colour Me

Every occupation has it's hazards: dentists have problems with their upper backs, waitresses have sore feet and apparenty game keepers have dodgy thumbs. Hairdresser's suffer from stiff shoulders, bunions and lower back problems, and we tend to cut ourselves a LOT. (I always carry band-aids, and a tetnus shot is just part of the routine.) But the real hazard when you are a hairdresser is the relentless and dramatic change in hairstyle....it's impossible to be satisfied with whatever you have for very long, there's always something newer and better and brighter and shinier coming at you all the time.

After 2 years of being having boring brown hair (which initially seemed "so natural" and "more classic", but eventually descended into "so mundane" and "lacking originality") I dyed my hair red and then I blow-dried it straight. I like a change now and again, and I'm used to the schizophrenic nature of my hairstyle, but it seems to have caught everyone else off-guard, and one person even said "you should have warned me", like I had sneezed on her or something.

I've had my hair almost every colour on the spectrum, from my natural dark brown, to blonde, to jet black to red. I've had it short, really short, kind of short and shoulder length. It's normally fairly curly, but I've been known to spend inordinate amounts of time straightening it. (When I was in high school, I think I spent more time getting my hair straight than I ever did on my academics. Probably why I ended up a hairdresser.) I went through a time in the '80s when I had a chunk of hair at the front that was an incandescent fuschia colour. (I had people ask if it was natural. Like that colour naturally occurred in nature anywhere, let alone on a human head.)

When I turned 40, I decided that I had spent enough time and energy colouring my hair, and it was time to let nature take it's course and allow the grey to grow out. In an effort to speed things up, I cut it really short, with the result that I had plenty of people ask if "everything was okay". I went back to colouring it, and mused that perhaps 50 was the age to let nature take it's course.

But for now I am a redhead, and happy enough with it. Until I see something I like better.

A Day Out of Town

This has been what Big Liver Girl calls "a treadmill week": I've been running like mad to keep up with everything, and I'm essentially in the same place where I started. Which is okay when you consider that the alternative is to have ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.

The Mister and I went to Toronto for a hair show last Monday. Hair shows are always fun; the shows themselves are always interesting and I come away feeling pumped and inspired about my job all over again, PLUS they have the added bonus of providing some of the most spectacular and entertaining people watching ever created. Seriously, I'd pay good money just to sit and watch the audience instead of whatever's going on up on stage. There was one young woman sitting close by who's cleavage was so impressively displayed in a clearly architecturally unsound bra that we were sure her breasts were going to jump out and say "howdy" at any minute. We saw a man who appeared to either part of some unseen Mardi Gras parade, or be auditioning for a role in "Liberace On Ice", because he was wearing some really weird shit for a Monday afternoon. And one of the guys up on stage actually doing the hair had the Mister and I in fits of giggles, because he was a dead ringer for Bilbo Baggins, and we kept making "Hobbit the Hairdresser" jokes.

We took the train to Toronto for the day, which meant that we had to be out the door at around 10 to 6 in the morning. That meant that breakfast was at around 5:30 or so, so you can imagine how enthusiastic we were about lunchtime when that rolled around. Honestly, we were so crazed with hunger by then we'd, as one of my cousins so eloquently put it, have eaten the legs off a low-flying duck. As we ate, the Mister remarked that we seemed to have Salman Rushdie as our waiter. (The Mister and I "see" celebrities everywhere. It's not unusual for one of us to tell the other that we saw Mikhail Gorbachav pumping gas that afternoon, or that Elizabeth Taylor was at the drycleaners. It amuses us no end.) That led to a whole lot of "he's been in a bit of a bad mood since the fatwa", and "maybe he's researching his next novel about being a Anglo-Indian waiter at post-colonial convention center banquet hall". We were highly entertained.

After the afternoon session, the Mister and I had a while before our train home, so we went and had some natchos and a beer (because we didn't have to drive!!) and I read my book and the Mister was able to snag some free wi-fi time and messed around on the internet and we managed to pass our free time in an incredibly civilized manner. Then we got the train home. There were two university guys in the seats behind us who spent the whole time on their cell phones negotiating with some other guy about editing their essays for them and getting them better marks. They wanted the editor to guarantee a particular grade increase, while he was clearly having none of it. He wanted a flat rate and they wanted a smaller rate, with a "per point" bonus, should he perform well. I couldn't help but want to suggest to them that perhaps they put this much effort into the essay itself, and maybe they wouldn't have to engage in such shenanigans at all. But I figured that was going to have to be a lesson that bitter experience, not I, was going to have to teach them.

Sometimes it's good to get up on that treadmill and shake things up a bit, even if I do risk ending up as heap on the floor.

Water Mane

I knew it was cold when I left for work this morning, both because the radio said so (-20°C at 8:15) and because it was painful to breathe in through my nose. I also knew it was cold when I opened the front door to get the paper, and Toby, who had been scratching away in a desperate attempt to get out there, actually backed away when he got an full face blast of January morning.

So, when I took my usual walk to Starbucks from the salon first thing, I figured it couldn't be good when I saw that the intersection immediately to the south of us was flooded with water. Any sensible water would be frozen solid at these temperatures, which meant that, unless a small stream had suddenly emerged because of an earthquake or a volcano, there was a water main busted. (Our salon is in an older part of town, and water mains burst with wild abandon at all times of the year, but they are particuarly fond of self-destructing during exceptionally cold weather.) And a water main burst that close to the salon usually means that we will be without water until they get the problem fixed.

Sure enough, about a half an hour later, a particuarly disheveled and highly emotional city worker burst in the door and announced in the most dramatic tones that the water was going to be cut off for 2 to 4 hours. (This actually makes a refreshing change from the usual listless city worker, who casually annouces such things...."Yeah, so, like, your water's gonna be shut off? And, like, we don't know for how long? I guess that's gonna be a problem for you. Have a nice day.") Lack of water IS a significant problem in a hair salon, but this guy nearly cried on our behalf. (Maybe he was thinking of himself and how he was going to have to work with spewing water on the freaking coldest morning of the winter.)

We've had this situation before, and we've always managed. Cutting hair's not a big deal; usually you can just use the spray bottle to get the client's hair wet. With chemical work, it's a little different; you want to get stuff off reasonably quickly. I had one client in my chair, who had come from out of town to get her hair done...she was willing to take the chance, and lo and behold, we had water when it was time to take out her highlights. My next client wasn't so lucky, but she was one of the stylist's sisters, and like all family members of hairdressers, has learned to roll with the punches and take what comes her way. I ended washing her hair with the water we had stockpiled earlier in the day....a messy business, but effective enough. By the time we were putting on the conditioner, the water had come back on. She was a good sport though; I think she was game to see if we could do the whole shebang with bottles and buckets. (We did call the other salons in the area and asked if we could bring our clients down to them, and they were all accomodating, but I was loathe to ask a client with a wet head to saunter down the street in sub-arctic temperatures.)

It livened up an otherwise mundane day, trying to figure out how to solve the problem and still get our work done. I'm just glad I'm not the guy who had to actually fix the water main.

Rules for Clients

Not every one can be a hairdresser (although, I think lots of people dream that they can..."but it looks so easy when you do it!") but mostly everyone except fundamentalist polygamist wives will eventually be a client. Here's how to do it right:

1. Be on time. This is a hairdresser's number one pet peeve, clients who are perpetually late, it throws of the rest of my day horribly. And believe me, you do not want the haircut I can give you in 15 minutes.
2. Tip the shampoo girl. She makes minimum wage, with the deal being that she is learning her craft and will eventually make a decent living. But for right now? she's not making much money, and believe me, she will remember you forever.

3. Don’t bitch about the price. Most hairdressers work on a straight commision only basis. When a client complains about the price we charge, I want to ask them how much less of a living would they like me to make, especially when they say they like the work that I do. Like restaurants, there are many different kinds of hair salons with many different pricing structures. Don't expect to eat fois gras when you are paying for Taco Bell.

4. Know what you want, or don’t want. When a client says "I don't know" I just want to smack them. Did you give this any thought at all on the way to the salon?? Or was it a complete surprise when you sat in the chair that you might be asked your opinion on how you wanted to look? Even if you have an idea of what you don't want, it's a place to start.

5. Be realistic. You are born with the hair you are born with. Deal with it. As I have said to many a client "this is a comb, not a wand".

6. Tip for extras. If I come in two hours ahead of my regular shift to fit you in, or take the time to slip your kid in for a bang trim or you get the shampoo girl to run out and get you something to eat, it is nice to have that extra effort acknowledged. Once I came in on my day off to do a client who was coming in from out of town for the day, and not only did she not bother to tip me, her cheque bounced.

7. Stinky hair is gross. In order to do colour, we have to work on unwashed hair. Most of the time that's no problem, in fact, working on hair that hasn't been freshly washed is a bit easier anyway. But you are fooling yourself if you think that cigarette you had in the car on the way in doesn't smell something fierce.

8. Don’t talk on your cell phone. When you have your phone up to your ear? it's up to your ear. I can't work around that. (I had one young woman who asked me if I had to blow dry right then, as she couldn't hear the person on the other end of the phone she had just answered.) Texting is no problem, it's akin to reading a magazine.

9. Don’t bring your small children when you are getting your hair done. Hair salons are full of hot, sharp, toxic objects; not a place for a 3 year old to wander around unsupervised. You'd be amazed at how much trouble a small child can get in when they know you are trapped in the chair for the duration.

10. Booking appointments. When you call, know when you can come in. Please. It can be like nailing jello to a wall to get some clients to commit to a day and a time. And if you are making the appointment for someone else who is in the same room as you, just let me talk to them. A ten minute conversation of "how about 10 on Tuesday?", "Just a sec.....she says how about ten on Tuesday", "No, I'm busy on Tuesday", "No, he's busy on Tuesday", "Okay, how about Wednesday then?", "Just a sec...she says how about Wednesday?" makes me want to reach through the phone and slap you both.

11. Don’t tell me how to do my job. I've been at this for a good twenty years now, and as much as I appreciate your input, I'm pretty sure I know how to cut bangs. Here's the deal: you give me the destination, I'll drive the bus. I might take a different route than your last hairdresser, but we will get there all the same.

Follow these rules and you will be an Uber-Client, the favorite of hairdressers the world over. And in exchange? We won't talk about you in the staff room.

Rules for Hairdressers

1. Believe the client when she says nobody has ever done her hair the way she likes it. The common denominator here is her. You? are not going to be the one to change that record.

2. Have a plan. This is not a roadtrip....you have to know where you are going before you get started.

3. Be realistic. If you can't do it, then tell the client right off the bat. There's nothing worse than finding yourself in the weeds, with no way to get out. The room gets very hot, very fast, and you will want to throw up. And really, who wants a barfing hairdresser?

4. Don’t keep the next client waiting. Everyone's time is valuable to them. If you're running behind then tell your next client and let them decide whether to stay or re-schedule. (We had a guy who worked at our place who made clients wait hours past their appointments, and it was just awful to watch. He was a power-tripping little turd.)

5. Bangs are kryptonite to hairdressers. A fine haircut can take a harsh turn real fast when the bangs go wrong. One stealth cowlick can ruin a perfectly good day.

6. Never talk anyone into something they don’t want. Okay, this one I learned through hard experience. Even if you KNOW she's going to look amazing when you're done, a client in tears is bad for your PR. Another person's head is not the stage for your performance art. Let her think about it and get back to you.

7. One inch is one inch. And not one smidgen more. If a client wants an inch off, do it. (I have, however, been known to wave my scissors over the head of a client who only wants "a half a centimeter off", because it would look exactly the same as if I actually cut it.)

8. Nutjobs look like anyone else. Don't be fooled by the nice clothes and the expert makeup. Like serial killers, crazy clients seem perfectly normal at first. Except for.....

9. Brides are psycho. It's just a fact of life. Even if things are going along swimmingly, the average bride will find something to spazz out about, and it has nothing to do with you.

10. Children’s haircuts speed is more important than accuracy. When cutting children's hair, you should start and proceed so that you could stop at almost any point in the haircut and it would still look okay. Because, like brides, children are psycho.

11. Hair is attached to a person. We often say that if all we had to do was the hair, our jobs would be very easy. Unfortunately, one also has to contend with the person under the hair. Most of the time, that is a genuine pleasure, but sometimes, it is hard, stinking work.

12. Never underestimate how ridiculous clients can be. Like the client who wanted a curling iron set to last through a wash and blowdry, there are no boundaries to what you will be asked to do. Just when you think you've seen it all, you will get someone who wants their hair to defy the laws of biology, or come to their house to have you cut their hair, or change their mind midway through the procedure ("is it too late to do something else?") Be prepared for anything.

Not The Answer I Was Expecting.

When I went to hairdressing school, back in the mid-80's, I got a bit more of an education than just how to cut hair. My hairdressing school was in a bit of a rough area of town, and we often had people come in who I did not usually encounter in my day-to-day life in the north end suburbs of my white-bread and Velveeta city.
In the morning, we had class time, whereby the teachers lectured, and then we had practical, hands-on training in the afternoon.
One morning, the topic under discussion was how to talk to clients in a professional, mature manner. We were cautioned not to talk about religion or politics, and to keep the details of our latest breakup/eviction/"Girls Nite Tequila Shot-a-Thon" to ourselves. We were encouraged to ask the client open-ended questions, to get them to talk about themselves and also, to keep the conversation geared to innocuous, benign, lily-white topics.

That afternoon, my first client was a young man, about my age. Taking the morning's advice to heart, I asked him if he grew up locally, and he said yes. Trying my best to keep the conversation going, I asked where he went to high school; this city's not too big, and since we looked to be of the same vintage, perhaps we had some acquaintances in common. He replied that he hadn't gone to high school.
I said "really, I thought everyone had to go to high school.".
To which he flatly replied "Not if you killed a guy, you don't."

And I stopped talking after that.

The Laws of Hairdressing.

I've been a hairstylist for over 20 years, and in the business for just over 25. (That means, I was a receptionist for 5 years before I actually took the plunge to hairdressing school.) and in the ensuing quarter century, I've discovered that the realm is ruled by the following rules....

The Laws of Hairdressing.

1. The woman that has curly hair wants it to be straight hair. The woman who has straight hair wants it to be curly hair. It is up to you to make it happen.

2. The later your first client of the day is, the earlier the rest of your clients will be for the rest of the day.

3. The bigger the breakfast you eat, the more time you will have for lunch later on. Conversely, the day you skimp on breakfast, thinking you will have time to go out and grab something, is the day you will book up entirely.

4. The client you think hates you and your work will be the first one in your chair when you come back from vacation or maternity leave. The clients you think are happy with you, you will never see again.

5. How people describe themselves will likely prove the opposite. The one who claims to be “low maintenance” or like a “natural look” will take up all the oxygen and the hairspray in the salon.

6. The sweet, lovely, clients for whom you will do anything will never ask you to do anything extra. They are precisely the ones you will want to do it for.

7. The client who complains bitterly and at length about the price you charge, will tell you all about their new kitchen renovations, the details about their recent Carribbean cruise, and the custom stools they had commissioned for the wet bar around their hot tub.

8. The last client of the day will be late.