Used to waiting, I grabbed a book and sat on a bench and waited. After an hour and a half, I poked my head into the salon and asked a different lady if it was going to be much longer. The lady informed me, quite snidely, that it was still going to be two hours, like she had said. Well... OK then, I thought. I sat back down for another hour, the book was really good and time passed quickly.
Finally, a new lady came out to get me. "Mrs. Swick? I can cut your hair now." "Uh, no, I want a perm." "Oh, I don't do those. You'll have to wait until the other lady is done coloring that hair, and she'll do it." (The other lady coloring the hair was the one who was "so nice" to me earlier.) The other lady looked up from where she was coloring a lady's hair and said, "Oh, I don't do perms, you should have said that's what you wanted. No one does perms here."
Three hours of waiting, being put on their books for a da.....rn perm, talking to the manager and having her expressly say that they did perms.... and this is where I end up. With tears of frustration, I turned and walked away, holding my tongue. Well, mostly holding my tongue.
The nicer of the two ladies ran out of the store and up to me as I was walking away. "There's a salon right around the corner that might be able to help you. Would you like me to call them?" I told her that I had just wasted 3 hours sitting on a bench, and walking around a da...rn corner wasn't gonna kill me.
Needless to say, I met a wonderful woman in that salon who felt so sorry for me that she blocked off 2 hours of her "best permer" of hair. I got my hair did, and felt immensely better about the whole afternoon.
I feel much like my Grandma Pride in this picture :) |
No comments:
Post a Comment