Today I must apologise to those who do not like rants but I have something to get off my chest. I have never been a fan of the phrase ‘The customer is always right.’ Sometimes the customer does not know what they want. Sometimes they have unrealistic expectations. Sometimes they are just rude and expect everything for nothing. Sometimes they actually want things that are unsafe or impossible. Sometimes they are just lacking in social etiquette. However most customers can be quite reasonable. I think that I am quite reasonable.
I work in a profession that has the (sometimes dubious) advantage that it stradles the health industry and customer service. Before that I worked at a department store in ‘records and cassettes’ (yes, I know that ages me… but all the other kids wanted my job back then). I have done endless courses on working and communicating with a customer. I know how bad and stressful it can be working with the public so I try not to make life hell for those who have to work with us.
However on Saturday morning I met a worker who has mad e me so angry at the incredibly horrendous, abhorrent and atrocious (and I use this as it is the most polite word I can use here and still keep a G raiting) service I have had in many years. Her manners were atrocious. I felt like I was rushed through, my instructions and needs were totally ignored and I was argued with. Basically I was treated like an idiot and lied to.
Let me set the scene: I have had to find a new hairdresser. Due to work stresses, I can no longer frequent the shopping centre where my lovely and wonderful long-term hairdresser works. (I am not happy about the incursion into my everyday life but have no choice at this point). I was referred to a different store where one of her colleagues had been transferred. We attended once and were happy with the service and results.
This week we were informed that she no longer works there. Turns out the store changed hands (we only found out when we arrived) and she left. A replacement appointment had not been made and so we had to be squeezed in at a most inconvenient time at the last minute.
We were given another hairdresser. She popped across, did a blunt cut (on dry hair) across the back of my hair and said she would do the rest of the cut after the colour. She then disappeared back to her original client for 15 minutes or so and returned. I prepared for the normal gossipy chatter that we usually get at the hairdressers. Boing. Black mark number one. She was very officious, the little small talk that she engaged in drowned out the instructions I gave her on how I wanted the colour (streaks and roots) to be done; specifically to leave in my natural grey streak at the front, and redo a red streak at the very front, near the face.
The colour was slapped on as if in a race. She did not put it in the same places as existing and did not do the specific streak near the face. She said she had done one on top that would fall down and cover. This actually left the under streak – faded as it was – undone entirely. I had to argue and call her back to do it. Boing. Black mark number two (well three if you count her ignoring my instructions to start with).
Hair washing: Well let me just say that my scalp is still buzzing from being burnt by such hot water. Boing. Black mark number four. No, I did not want a blowdry and if I did I would wait until my cut was finished. But wait, apparently it was! ???? (Insert jaw drop and query as I had specifically asked her to slightly layer the back (not done) and trim the ‘fringe’ and layer it. She advised me that she had already done it.
Excuse me! I would have noticed if she had taken to the front of my hair with a pair of scissors – which she had not! I have eyes and intelligence; I am not senile and she was lying. She argued with me but dained to cut it anyway. (too short, the layers go too deep and it is on the wrong part – even after a few minutes of explaining exacty what I wanted). (insert many, many expletives here). I felt as if we were being pushed through as fast as possible (even though there was no one else in the store at the time – am I surprised?!) to keep her numbers up, her manner becoming more abrupt the more I insisted on insisting that the items I was paying for had not been done.
Even my husband’s cut was unprofessional. The slight undercut that he has is usually about a number 2 I think, she was going to totally shave it off and I had to insist she get a different razor – even after we had ‘discussed’ it in detail before hand. Even now, there are bits that she has missed and not cut properly.
I left feeling very angry, patronised, gobsmacked and in tears. I don’t think she cared one bit. I was not a young trendy thing and I suppose she wondered how I would dare to dictate to her what I wanted done with my hair.
I will never be returning to that shop. I am spreading the word to my friends to avoid it like the plague… and have the pictures to prove it! This woman provides that horrid example to reinforce the gen Y stereotype that people complain about. I feel sorry for all those hard working gen Y’s who had to put up with the like of her. Because I will never put up with her again.
Sorry for the rant.
Never piss off a writer.