Why Yes...

Okay, so.  At work, I am usually the one who answers the phone. I'm not exactly sure how or when this duty fell to me primarily but it has. I also do most of the bathroom scrubbing, sweeping, straightening, sign making & mail sorting. I use all this to my advantage on Secretaty/Executive Assistant Day & guilt T into a free meal so don't think I'm complaining.
Anyways, typically right before & after a big Holiday or Vacation we get about 50 gajillion phone calls with people wanting to know the following:
Are you open??
Are you both working??
What time do you close??
Have you/when are you gone/going to lunch??
Are you busy right now??

I can answer these questions civilly up until about lunch. Depending on when lunch is.  Recently, right before a major Holiday, lunch didn't happen until about 2PM or so. To say I was getting a little cranky before would be understating it somewhat. I had my head down and was going balls-to-the-wall cutting hair when the phone rang. I answered like THIS:
"T's Barber Shop. Yes we are open. Yes we are both working. Yes we are busy. No, we haven't gone to lunch. No, I have no idea when we're going to lunch AND we close at FIVE. Is there anything I failed to cover??"
To his credit, the client on the other end of the line responded with "Nope. That pretty much answered all of my questions. I'll see you later."
All the clients who were IN the shop at the time were laughing their asses off.
T was NOT amused.
At ALL.
Not even a little.
He kind of fussed me.

UNTIL...

He was telling this story later that day as an example of my insolent behavior.
It just so happens the client I said all that to was sitting in the shop waiting for a haircut. He spoke up and said:
"That was me who called. I found her answer to be extremely helpful & concise. She answered all my questions BEFORE I even asked them".

HA!!!  Suck on THAT!!

Now T tells that story as an example of my insolent behavior & how I get away with it.
And as a cautionary tale to some of our newer clients that I haven't broken in good yet.

T often fails to appreciate my genius.

The Tale of the Chicken Shit Husband

Okay, so.  Earlier this week, Wednesday-ish, a guy comes into the shop, removes his ball cap, and says with a sigh only the bone crushingly oppressed can muster "My wife is MAKING me get a buzz cut and I was told to come see you". (Talking partly to me, partly to the shop at large).

T: Your wife is MAKING you get a buzz cut??

Chicken Shit Husband: Yes. I don't WANT one but she says I'll be cooler with it when I'm working & stuff.

Me: Okay, have a seat.

I get him settled and begin asking him the obligatory questions about overall length, etc.

CSH: I don't know exactly how short she wanted it.

Me: Well...  Did she mention any numbers?? 2, 3, 4?? Anything to indicate what she wanted the end result to be??

CSH:  She mentioned some numbers but I can't remember what they were.

Me: I tell you what. We'll start out longer and work our way shorter until YOU'RE happy. How about that??

CSH: Okay.

I fire up the clipper, snap on a blade and get ready to cut.  HE LEANED AWAY FROM THE CLIPPER!!  I try again (because I'm nothing if not persistent) and he leaned away AGAIN!! What. The. Fuck?!?!

Me: Is there a problem??

CSH: I'm not sure I want to do this since I can't remember what my wife told me. I'm gonna go GET HER & bring her back here so she can just TELL you what she wants.

Me: Alrighty then. Whatever makes you more comfortable.

He leaves. Never to be heard from again.

UNTIL TODAY!!  Oh yes folks!!  HE CAME BACK!!

CSH: You remember me from earlier this week?? Yeah, well I lost the fight. I'm gonna sit here & wait for my wife. She's on her way here.

T: You're really gonna do it this time huh??

CSH: Yeah. I told her about the mix up with the numbers & she told me she'd make it easy on me & to just get a zero all over.

T: A ZERO on your WHOLE head??

CSH: Yeah.

(Note: A zero is SHORT. A zero is what most Military & Police get on the sides. The only way to get shorter is with a RAZOR)

Me: (After he sits around for about 20 minutes) Are you still wanting to wait for your wife or do you want to go ahead & get started since you have your instructions??

CSH: I guess we can get started.

I get him all situated. AGAIN.  I fire up the clipper. AGAIN.
You know where this is going.

He chickened out. AGAIN!!

CSH: You know, I think you might be able to talk to my wife better about this. Maybe she won't argue with YOU.  I'm just gonna go outside & smoke until she gets here.

Me: Of COURSE you are!!

He fled. Never to be heard from again.

Because if he comes back a third time, I'm gonna tell him to take himself, his hair, and his WIFE to fucking Supercuts.

Let THEM deal with that shit!!

I'm About to Make My Mom Proud

Okay, so.  Every year, me,  my girlfriends & my Wife-in-Law (she's married to my ex) load up to take ourselves to Jackson, Mississippi for a weekend to be a part of the World Famous Sweet Potato Queens Zippity Doo Dah (formerly the St. Paddy's Day) Parade. This is a weekend where we don costumes, wigs, LOADS of sparkly jewelry and the biggest Tiaras we can find that we can fit into our budgets and PLAY. And we play HARD.  I have learned several things over these weekends but one of my all-time favorite things I have learned is the phrase "Eat Shit ".  I use it. A LOT. I also added AND DIE for good measure.  See, last year, I got pretty NOT sober at the ball.  I was not sober enough that I ended up doing drunken cartwheels and the splits in the hallway outside my room.  Somehow, we ended up with the photographer in tow and he took pictures of my drunk ass performing these feats.  He had them on display outside the breakfast room the next morning. I have to say, I looked WAY more awesome in my head. Kinda like those pictures on Pinterest. "This is how I think I look..."  My Mom would be so proud...   Anyways, during my drunken acrobatics, a small crowd had formed to witness my jackassery. We may have been a LITTLE loud. It may have been a LITTLE late.  So some woman opens her door and begins griping about the noise and could we keep it down because she had kids in her room who were trying to sleep.  My response went something along the lines of "Boy are YOU in the wrong hotel on the wrong weekend Sister!!"  Really, this Parade has been on the SAME weekend, in the SAME hotel FOR-EV-ER.  Okay, if I'd have been sober, I'd have (maybe) been nicer. But I wasn't so there you are.  The next day, we were on the bus coming back from some event or other when the subject of the cranky woman came up.  Turns out, she'd been a pure-d Bitch the night before but I wasn't really paying attention to the full rant.  Well, one of the ORIGINAL Wannabe Queens, Martha Jean Alford, (Whom I absolutely ADORE) was in the front of the bus. She turns around with her damn near six foot self in her Queenly shades and says "I just can't believe she was so UGLY!!  Did you tell her to just EAT SHIT ??"  "No, but we sure wish we had!!" was our response.   Fast forward to that night. I am considerably more sober than the night before. I had washed my face, brushed my teeth, & donned my sock monkey pajamas when I pause, sit on the foot of my bed, look up at my Wife-in-Law (we shared a room last year) and say "Y'know what would be funny as HELL??  We go to Bitchy McBitchypants' room, knock on her door, and when she answers say in unison "Martha Jean says to EAT SHIT!!  Goodnight!!"   My WIL said while it WOULD be funny, it might not be prudent so we just went on to bed.  She's obviously the level headed one.  We will be headed to Jackson again this March. We have more wigs & more bling. Y'all should come play. You won't regret it. And maybe, just maybe, I'll do a couple of cartwheels for ya.