You Have The Right To Remain Silent......

Well ladies before I start regaling you with this tale of woe and a ho; may I suggest you get comfortable, grab a drink, maybe get a snack because this is a long one, but so worth the read...I swear. First though, I'm going to give you a little background on our drama filled day. Thursday we had a lady come in get a brow wax from me and about $150 in product from the store. She wrote two checks and then went next door got her hair did(keeping it hood) and wrote another check. Friday the manager from the posh salon next door came over to tell us the checks were going to bounce because the account had been flagged for fraud and was actually closed. Of course the boss was upset but we figured what can you do, we'll never see the woman again. Well, it seems our intrepid thief was rather ballsy. On Saturday she called our place and scheduled a brazilian...with me. Our owner went next door to tell the salon owner and she wanted us to take the appointment so she could call the police to come get the thief when she showed up. So we all agreed when she came in for her appointment the cops would burst in like gangbangers and take her down...book 'em Danno!.... OK, now let me tell you how it really went down. She shows up for her appointment an hour late and stumbles in the door almost taking out an entire table of purses. I grab her at the door act like nothings wrong and take her back to my room where she proceeds to cry for 10 minutes because her girlfriend has left her for another woman. This whole time I'm waiting to hear my boss knock on the door and tell me I have an emergency so the police can...book 'em Danno! Right? I mean how long can it take? The police are next door after all. So to stall I give her paperwork to fill out and tell her I'll give her a few minutes to pull herself together. I walk out and my boss informs me I have to stall her longer because they aren't ready...what the hell??? Back in I go to find she's filled out her paperwork and is still crying over her girlfriend. I should also mention she is totally loopy, blotto, cracked out, stoned, whatever you want to call it. She can barely string two words together. Hell, she can barely sit up straight. I walk back out of the room with her papers and my boss again tells me you've gotta stall her longer....what the hell??? I don't get paid enough I'm telling you. Back in the room I go and find her completely naked from top to bottom, lying on my bed with a tiny wee towel draped over her crotch. She's a lot of woman, probably around 6 foot and about 250 so that towel was working overtime to cover anything. Great...did I mention I didn't get paid enough? So I tell her to put on her shirt since we're not waxing any of that and start trying to figure out how to draw this out without actually waxing. After 10 minutes of naked small talk I have to do something so I pull the towel back enough to expose her thigh and lay down a strip of wax and rip it off. I do the same strip of skin for 15 minutes cuz no way am I going to do all that work for nothing. Finally, thank you little baby Jesus, my boss knocks and out the room I go explaining I have a family emergency and we'll have to reschedule. She slurringly tells me no problem and I hide in the back until she leaves. It takes her fifteen minutes to make it out of my room(Oh yeah,we'll get back to that one) I hear the door tracker ding so out of my hiding place I spring to watch her stumble out and the police finally converge on her all swat like....book em Danno! Yay, drama over I go back to my room to straighten up the mess. I walk in look over to where my personal stuff is and see that my purse is gone. Lets just say I have moments in my life when I'm not quite capable of controlling the words that come out of my mouth..ie this is one of those times. I turn around storm out into the middle of the store and yell..loudly...that fucking bitch stole my purse! OK, did I mention I work in a Merle Norman and you can't throw a rock in there without hitting a 60 year old lady so guess who heard my nasty potty mouth? Out I storm in my three inch heels across the parking lot and yell...loudly(damn why am I loud at the worst times)...that fucking bitch stole my purse! OK to hurry this along we'll skip over the most of it and I'll tell you I got my purse back with everything in it so no harm done. Back into the store I go, purse in hand, through the gauntlet of little old ladies to go clean up my room. Of course the ladies loved all the drama, they'll probably be telling the story for a good month. I march back in my room and turn to the other side of the room and HOLY SHIT...are you ready for it? She had pissed in my floor, on my rug, and on the curtains. I honestly didn't know the human bladder could hold that much fluid.(15 minutes of pissing that's why it took her so long in my room) There was so much on the floor I thought she'd spilled one of my bottles but the smell and color gave it away. So I go charging back out into the store yelling...loudly(yeah, I need to work on that)..that bitch pissed in my floor. The little old ladies are fired up and one of them walks over to me and says that bitch pissed on your floor?! Just to hear those words come out of a sweet looking little old lady made the whole damn thing worth it. I'm telling you I don't get paid enough...book em Danno! Estheticians Unite!!