Today I had one of the strangest client encounters I've ever had while at work. It went like this....
A man walked in to the office. Let's call him Dick. It's appropriate.
Me: Hi, can I help you?
Dick: Yes, you can comb your hair.
What I should have said: Why don't you go comb your face?
What I actually said after recovering from my wide eyed, quizzical-dog head tilt: *extremely awkward laugh* But can I help you with anything? *stumbles blindly through rest of encounter, but otherwise survives until he finally fucking leaves*
I'm absolute shit at confrontation, and I just didn't see that one coming. He was completely deadpan and I still have literally no idea if he was trying to be clever (I really don't have a good example of how this could be construed as clever...) or if he was just a complete waste of breathable air.
It's important to note here that my hair was in a bun, and that he had the follicular equivalent of a dead cat on his head. I get that not everyone loves the wild colours I've grown so fond of, but seriously, I do try to maintain a pretty high level of overall hair maintenance. And in any case, he didn't seem concerned with the colour....but instead with how much I brushed it? Which he could tell from the tidy professional bun I was sporting? I'm still so confused.
You sir, are an asshole.
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