Funeral Flowers

Their are certain things you should avoid if you are a hairdresser. A major one would be eating anything that will cause you to blow a hole in the back of your pants. For some unknown reason I decided it would be a good idea to eat a bag full of fresh cherries before starting my eight hour shift. Towards the end my stomach started percolating and the clenching began. As I said goodbye to my last client, pushing them out the door in a hurry, I sighed with relief allowing hurricane force winds to escape from my buttocks. Mmmmm that was nice...*sniff sniff* GOOD GOD!!! that's an impressive scent. Right as I start to think all is well I hear a voice coming from the side of me say "I smell funeral flowers?! You smell that?" It was Pete our stereotypical resident gay hairdresser. I start to blush and giggle, barely containing my laughter I peep out "Noooooo I don't smell anything." and he responds with "You don't smell carnations?" I quickly pondered if my ass was capable of smelling like carnations and realized he wasn't talking about me at all. I started to laugh and he looked at me with the confused puppy dog face. I believe we have coined a new phrase.

Tales from the chair

Every day is a new challenge in the hairdressing industry. We never know what crazy person will walk through the door next, what employee drama will arise or in todays case, what will break.
As I'm calling my next client back for her haircut she whispers "I think the toilet is broken." No biggie, I'm pretty handy when it comes to fixing things. I scamper off to fix what in theory is a simple situation(I should know better by now) when I open the door to the womans bathroom. "MAY DAY! MAY DAY! The Titanic has resurfaced and all the dead bodies smell awful."

Time to call the plumber because my degree is in beauty not doodie.