Three things I chose to do today that should be relaxing- 1) get my hair cut 2) eat at Whitecastle and 3) get a cup of coffee at Starbucks while I blog something witty about hispanic Jehovah's Witnesses not wanting to witness to me but asking if I knew of any hispanics in the apartment complex.
I did those three things, but each is more frustrating than I thought possible.
1) Getting a haircut is something I don't do often enough, but always enjoy when I go somewhere where my personality matches up with the one cutting my hair. Its a relationship built on making good assumptions, asking the right questions and then shutting up and cutting my hair. I won't get into personal attacks about the fidgety, spaztic woman who cut my hair while making sure to tell me and everyone else about how righteous she lives. I've learned to be specific about how I want my hair. Its not hard. "Medium Skin Fade and take about 1/2" off the top." Simple. She started cutting and coughing and grabbed a blow dryer and aimed it at my head with one hand while using the clippers with the other. Turns out that hair gives her hives. "Or maybe I'm allergic to people, I don't know. People or hair, I'm allergic to something. And I get these big scabs on my feet..." I should have stood up and walked out with my hair half cut. I would have saved myself 40 minutes.
After about 5 minutes of cutting she stopped and said, "Wait, how do you want it cut?"
I said, "Medium skin fade and take about 1/2" off the top."
Her: Do you know what that means?
Me (blood pressure): Yeah. Skin about half-way up, then fade it the rest of the way up.
Her: Ok. Most people say things like that but have no idea what they're asking for. I just wanted to make sure.
She then proceeded to give me a High and Tight. Not once did she turn me toward the mirror to look at it. When she finally finished she said, "Is that better?" I said, "I hope so, but I'll tell you when I turn around and see it." She looked confused. I saw what she had done, paid her and left.
2) I left the barber shop that I won't return to and drove a block or two down the street to White Castle. I was in the mood for something greasy and bad for me. I had never actually been inside White Castle before. Its nothing to write to mom about. Fortunately I was able to support them on what I can only assume is their "Brainless Americans Can Cook Hamburgers Day". Too many details. 20 minutes to get 4 small burgers. I was literally shaking with frustration.
3) thank goodness Starbucks is right across the street. 98% of the time I order a drink from Starbucks I say the exact same thing: "Grande Drip. (room for cream?) No thank you. (have a nice day) Thank you, you too." But no. Not today. Today... i can't even think of a way to convey the interaction with the nice young lady behind the counter. Obviously she will start her training next week. I'll start where it went wrong:
I walked up to the counter.
She welcomed me like all good Starbuckians do. She asked what she can get started for me.
Me: Grande Drip
She stares at the computer and pushes buttons.
Her: I don't really know how to ring that up.
Blood runs from my ears.
Her: Um. you want a triple shot iced what?
Me: No. I just want a grande drip coffee.
Her: Ohhh. OK. Sorry. Wait- what do you want?
Me (motioning politely to the coffee makers 4 feet from me): Just a Grande brewed coffee.
Her (looking at me like I just changed my order and asked for a pulled pork sandwich): Oh- well thats a lot easier to ring up. Do you want room for cream?
Me: Nope :) just the coffee
I know I may have a little bit of a pet peeve about poor service or people not knowing their job or something. But- WOW!- I am surprised about the amount of frustration I have felt over all of this.
I should take a moment to look on the bright side:
- I don't have any more gray hair.
- My head has never been smoother on the sides (she asked at one point if I wanted her to shave it with the straight razor)
- I found out that eating a White Castle makes me feel dirty- a lesson I won't have to re-learn.
- I know without a doubt that the closest Kingdom Hall is not interested in my soul. Seriously- what if I went door to door asking which houses the white people lived in?!?!?
- I was able to provide a training oportunity to someone who is new at Starbucks.
- And right now my wife is saying, "I would love to have the opportunity to have bad service at Starbucks and then sit there and blog about it." I love you Janey.