The Price of Customer Service

I recently mentioned that I had gotten my hair done, and that the encounter was a post all on its own? Well, here it is, in the form of the online review that I posted on Yahoo! Search. Cant WAIT to see it. One more thing? You can pretty much guess that I gave this salon one. Whole. Star. Which was way too many.
Here's the comment I posted:
Ever see those coupons in the mail for hair salons? That usually means one of two things:
1. The business is desperate and in trouble.
2. The offer is too good to be true.
In the case of Yalonda's, BOTH are true.
The coupon says $25 for a wash and set, $50 for a sew in, & $75 for a sew in with a closure. You WILL leave this place with a total WTF? look on your face. Here's why:
Say you go in for the $25 wash and set. They will wash your hair, but not condition it. That's EXTRA. They will be nice enough to ask if you want it wrapped or roller set. When you are done drying, they will NOT unwrap your hair or comb out the curls. That's styling, and styling's EXTRA.
If you you have a bang- and the dryer makes it look all crispy and air dried, don't think you're getting that flat ironed. That's $15 dollars EXTRA.
Notice a pattern? Me too...
So, I go in for the $75 full sew in with a closure. I see the online reviews, but I'm all, "How bad can it be?". SIGH- I'm cheap.
So the stylist (this term is used REALLY loosely), sews in the hair. Then, she she spins me around with kind of a Voila! gesture. She doesn't even comb it through! Not even a finger combing! I'm like, "You're done? The ad says this comes with a basic cut".
She says to me, "That's only if I sew it in crooked. In that case, I just clip off the long piece. If you want the ends trimmed, that's EXTRA."
I cannot forget to mention the poor girl next to me, being serviced by the 17 year old working there without a license. She only mentioned that the sew in was WAY too tight about 80 times. I guess listening is EXTRA.
Next, let's discuss atmosphere, then sanitation and customer service (or the lack thereof).
Say you bought a foreclosed property. Say also that the prior owners were pissed to be leaving, so they threw wet toilet paper balls all over the walls (like we used to do in grade school), then painted all the walls and all the tissue bombs Crayola Crayon Green. You sweep in and get the property for a steal, then put a fan in the window and a boom box in a chair (with a wire hanger antenna!), and your decor is complete.
This is LITERALLY what Yalonda did.
You can actually tell that where she stands to do her "magic" is where the STOVE was! The original counter is still in place!There is not even a wash bowl in there!
Speaking of washing...The ENTIRE time I was there, not one stylist washed her hands even ONE TIME! I know this because neither of them left the room EVEN once, and there is NO sink upstairs. They touched, like, 20 heads, with no soap, hand sanitizer, and none of that green stuff for the combs that real stylists use, either. There were not even EMPTY cups FOR that green stuff (or is that stuff blue? Either way, there was NONE). I guess cleanliness is also EXTRA. I wonder if the wash sink is in one of the old bathrooms??
If you decide to set foot in this place, you had better know where you're going. The entrance of the house is the living room. There is no one there to say hello, or even a BEWARE! sign. Yalonda is up in the kitchen, and I think the stylists down in the bedrooms are independent, because Yalonda spent the entire time discussing how they were down there "'Effing up people's hair left and right". Yes, that's a quote. At any rate, when you come in, don't expect to hear "May I help you?" or anything like that. Everyone will basically stop talking and stare like you were the one they were all just discussing. It's up to you to initiate the conversation, and don't expect any small talk or smiling, either. Customer Service must also cost EXTRA.
The entire time I was there, no one left with a completed hairstyle. Who the hell wants to pay someone to get their hair started, then finish it at home? That's like going to Taco Bell for Fourthmeal and then coming home to assemble your own Nachos Belgrande.
Seriously.
If you want a hair- do complete with air conditioning, customer service, salon products, cleanliness, hair combing, AND a style.. NO WAY.THAT'S EXTRA.

Dude, Where's My Wife?

This will be a rather short post, as I have a real, actual job interview tomorrow, and I am very excited. So, I will be up all night thinking about EVERYTHING. At 3am, there may be pancakes. Maybe I'll bake a cake... Zoloft, pleeze!
So, as I pride myself on being damn near perfect- stable, yet spontaneous, simple, yet complex, funny in a cute sarcastic way..... Things happen that may suggest that I am none of these things (shhh! Dont tell my inner bitch).
Anyway...
I decide to do the world a favor and get my hair done so I can be cute(er) AND funny. So, as I do what pretty much comes automatically, I realize that I've pretty much had the SAME hairstyle for, like, TEN years.
Oh. My. GOD. I am becoming, like, my mom or something.
So, I do get it done, but no details today- that will warrant an additional post, and it. will. be WORTH IT! Shame on people that portray themselves to be respectable business owners.....
SIGH. I think I should maybe start using subtexts or something...
Here's the point: Clinton and I go to Big Box World, to get a big box of something or other, and all of a sudden, he starts yelping my name. I am three feet away- he does not recognize me. The look of surprise and confusion he gave when I poked him was proof positive.
Damn.

And Another One

So, I am back from another Twitter relapse. This time its not my fault, though. I totally blame Anderson Cooper and Ashton Kutcher for this recent wagon tumble- they MADE me do it. Anderson Cooper is so fine, I'll do whatever he asks.
There are many ways I could go with a horrible 360 (certainly involving a reach-around) joke that would scar most of you for life, so I won't.
This time...
Anyhow... In order to remain devoted to my blog and stay off the Twitter-codone (that's Twitter-contin for all you generics), from now on I'll just send my well thought out and counted 140 characters over to my blog, cutting my Twitter dealer out of the loop. Yippee, now I can fire my pimp....
Here's the first one:
Something to say to make yourself look stupid as hell on world television: "He's a Socialist cuz he's a Socialist. That's why". SIGH.
I bet you counted the characters........

Next Post

For my next post, I will discuss my Twitter relapse (12 steps, my arse), and how 30 REALLY is the new 12.

He Arose, Therefore I Brunch

I totally get that Ive been away for far too long. From Good Friday to Easter, I was in various stages of preparing for Easter Sunday. Plastic eggs to fill and hide, eggs to buy and color, matching shirts to Tye dye, brunch, pictures, you know the drill. Usually, we go to brunch at the Waverly, but the hubby was supposed to work (economic crisis, you know). Then, he surprised us with the day off, and the choices of the places we could get a reservation with left much to be desired in the heart of a true foodie. How can you have Easter Brunch without crab cakes and ham? SIGH. I went to culinary school for the food, remember???
So, here is the menu for Easter Brunch at home with the Nudity Family (us):

Brunch in Our Underwear

Smoked Salmon Platter (with everything bagels)

Fruit Display

Ices Shrimp and Crab Claws

Caramelized Sugar Bacon (yum)

Vegetarian Sausage (Carlton Banks)

Cinnamon Raisin French Toast

Buttermilk Biscuits

Cream Cheese Danish

Fried Cod

Peasant Potatoes

Buttered Asparagus

Caesar Salad (with burned croutons- totally my fault, too)

Assorted Pretty Desserts from Dekalb Farmers Market

I didn't get crab cakes OR ham, but the trade off was worth it, as I was able to knock back a stellar amount of Bellini's and stumble right into the living room, where I crashed and slept till dark. YAY, "Itis"! See, I AM black. Or, do we all get tired after marathon eating??? You be the judge.

Anyhow, thanks, Jesus, for that stuff you did.

Talk Like...... What????

Recently, the hubby had the Bromancers (his entourage. If you don't get the reference, SIGH) over to watch a totally uninteresting sports event. It is my job to cook, smile, and act like the super perfect wife that I am in my head, and I take great pride and pleasure in doing just that.
Another part of said job is entertaining the female companions of the Bromancers. I use the generic term "female companion", because 99 percent of Hubby's friends are not married, just in various stages of shacking up and self delusional compromise. Therefore, I feel that if these gals are going to be putting up with all the shyt that they do without the leverage of divorce court, custody battles and alimony payments on their side, they are just cheap enough to warrant a generic label (oops, there she is again!).
I can feel myself veering off the road to stand on the old "Self Worth / Crisis in the American Family" soapbox, so let me get to the point of this post.
On this night, there was only one companion to tend to. I like this gal just fine, but she gets a bad rap from the Bromancers. They say she doesn't know when to shut up.....
Anyway.....!
So my sons are all over the place, and Buzz Lightyear (the three year old) is chatting about whatever it is that he talks about to anyone who will listen. So then, Female Companion turns to me and says, "Wow, your boys are so cute! Tell me, how do you make them talk like that???"
Aw... Hell..... Nah....
Verbal abuse and throat punches are sure to follow.
SOMEHOW, I resist the urge to curse her out. I smile and say, "What do you mean? In English?"
Then she goes, "You know, like you. All white and stuff. Your mom was my lawyer when I had my accident, and she don't sound nothing like you."

Yes, she does. Its called switching, if you didn't know. But still.....

The guys are quiet now, and I really want to stab this chick with a plastic fork, but I take the high (HA!) road and say, "I guess its because my mom sent me to a good school where they make you speak the language. You know, this way of speaking has its benefits. When I call customer service, I'm never put on hold. Plus, when I have interviews, I always do very well. Plus, the fact that my children and I have normal names means our resumes wont get thrown in the trash so we can get into said interview. What about you?"
No response.
SO THERE.
I guess I should have called this post The Inner Bitch, Part 2. She had it coming, though.

The Inner Bitch- Part One

So yesterday, I somehow come to my own conclusion that I am a little bit bitchy sometimes. Never mind that people tell me that all the time, 'cause who the heck do they think they are, anyway??? Honesty IS the best policy, and if it burns, its workin'! Also never mind that I have been intervened upon once or twice( more flies with honey, my arse), and that my bff recently told me in a super sarcastic voice that she "couldn't imagine WHY my mother in law wouldn't like me, and WHERE on EARTH did I get the idea that I may be stuck up?" Humph.
BTW, that hurt for a split second.... What does it mean to not be "THAT opinionated"???
Anyhow.
So, I started thinking of all the people my bitchiness may have affected.
I could only think of one person. He knows who he is, and in my defense, he admitted to being a mess when we met, and that his baggage was past carry-on before our little relationship sham thingy ever began.
Seriously now..... Why would anyone give me that much power in their life? To say that I, commentator of the world, am the sole ruiner of all things "you" is a huge responsibility that I just don't think I'm ready to accept.
Carlton Banks is a tween, you know, and I am quite busy scarring him for life, thank you very much.
So, as I make the first moves to quell the bitch within, I balk. Why should I? She serves no purpose to anyone but me. I love her and so do others, and if you don't know that she's for entertainment purposes only, then you deserve her scathing, curse word laden, self esteem withering wrath.
So there (arms folded in indignation).
And another thing? I'm sorry (again). Also, get a freakin' life. There's NO WAY I should still have this much power in your life for you to feel so passionately about the past.
Sheeeeee's baaaaack! Ive missed her so.....

Okay, Im Back. This Time for Good

This blogging thing is harder than it seems. Exspecially when you have a problem with awesome beginnings and rather awkward, incomplete endings (see ALL of my relationships thus far).
I have come to realize that I also have a blog in my head. That, and lead in my ass, because I can never seem to make it down the stairs to put all of my random rants to pen. Or keyboard.
I have another excuse- that Twitter is the new crack. I have been Twittering so frequently that I have segments of life that I can only remember in increments of 140 characters. Ive gotta get off that shyt......
Anyways...
For my next post, I will discuss.......... My self intervention with my inner bitch.
Yep, the voices rage on......