Daily Archives: September 23, 2011

Customer of the Day: The Schizo

I have decided to begin a new portion of my blog dedicated to the customers that come into my store who A. Annoy the piss out of me; B. Make me smile; or C. in any other way stand out to me.  Please refer to a former post entitled

The Irritating, The Obnoxious, and the Grotesque

if you wish to read my first ranting of my lovely clientele.

Today’s rant shall be about The Schizo, since he was just here, and my shitty mood made him irritating to me today.

The Schizo is a man in his mid-to-late-30’s who walks my mall every day with a 100 lb headphone set on his skull. My first face-to-face experience with him occurred on a day when he hadn’t taken his meds, and came in to buy a book on Egyptian history, which ended with him ranting about how ” America is stupid and he can’t get a job here because he has a felony”; how “Russia has the right idea and everybody should get paid the same,” and how “he was trying to figure out a way to move TO Russia.” While The Schizo is quite an intelligent fellow,  when he gives his opinions, his voice raises about 9 decibals, so that he sounds like a raving lunatic. I got him to change the subject, and he calmed down enough to re-engage his headset and continue his walk.

The next time he didn’t take his meds, he came in and immediately began ranting about the fact that his son doesn’t listen to him, and that HE is the boss, and his son needs to heed him. I agree with this wholly, however, when your dad is an unstable nut who forgets to take his pills, I understand where at times this might not be the thing you would want to do.

FYI, I do not in any way condone forcing anyone with schizophrenia to take medication, but in some cases I believe it would be beneficial, to those taking it and those coming in contact with them.

There are plenty of times when The Schizo has come in and we have had highly intelligent conversations on a variety of subjects, but more often than not, I sit behind my counter and listen to him rave on.

Tuesday he came in and was talking about I don’t know what. His thoughts were so scattered, I don’t even think HE knew what he was talking about. And during these times, he stands in front of the cash register and raves on, many times when a line of people is waiting to pay. It takes much nodding and mm-hmm-ing to get him to leave.

My brother is diagnosed as a schizo, so I realize a person sometimes needs extreme patience to deal with someone with this disease, but seriously, Schizo, if I have to hear another rant about Napoleon, or the Celts, I may just end up ranting to mall security.


Filed under Books, Humor, Life, Uncategorized, Work

The Allure of J.B.F. Hair

Having lived my entire life as one of the Unfortunates Born With Naturally Curly Hair, I understand the struggle that we, as so named, collectively endure. Not to say that the curly-headed people are unattractive; in fact, I would say quite the opposite is true. For example, Beyonce resembled African Royalty when she wore her hair in the full glory of her natural afro, (in my opinion) where as, Paris Hilton with her skinny stick-straight hair resembles a corpse that’s been buried for at least a month. (also my opinion.) The hardships we face are as such: which professional hair-care products do we dare spend our hard-earned money on, when any one of them may leave our curls weighed down, greasy, or resembling the crunch on a piece of blackened chicken? There is always the option to go au naturale, but then one runs the risk of being mistaken for an un-evolved cavewoman.

When I was small, I remember an incident when my momma took me to the salon to get my bangs trimmed. Now, when I see pictures of myself as a child, I am ashamed to say that I do not believe my mother ever made me brush my hair. But for some reason, I remember quite a few haircuts from back then. Anyhoo, I informed the woman about to trim my bangs that I wanted them cut so they would be straight. Obviously, this was not an option. She did attempt to straighten them with product and a round brush, but I left the beauty shop in tears because “I just wanted straight bangs.” I believe that event has scarred me for life.

When I was 13, I FINALLY convinced my parents to allow me to get a perm. This may seem strange, since my hair was curly already, but at the time, I didn’t have the nice spirally curls I wanted. My tresses actually looked like I went to bed with my hair wet. So I spent my teen years paying to have acceptable -looking curls. When I was 18, I went to the salon again and told the woman to chop it all off. That was probably the cutest haircut I ever had. I still get compliments about my senior pictures.

From 18 until now, I have had nearly every color of hair imaginable. (most recently Wildfire Orange) Mostly, this is because I get bored easily, but partly it is because I am trying to find a color that compliments my riotous curls. On my 28th birthday, I went to the salon and got a haircut inspired by Rihanna’s fauxhawk. I must say that I got many many compliments on that style, and the ones that followed. I think it was because there are not many people I know that are willing to almost shave there head, and my personality matches my hair.

I have now decided that I will grow my hair out, and though I straighten it sometimes, (which is ALOT of work) I mostly just let it be curly. (which is also alot of work) Every morning, I must spritz leave-in conditioner (because curly hair is dry), goop some gel in, spray some spray-n-play, scrunch it, blow dry it, and add hairspray while my head is flipped upside down, just to get my mane looking like J.B.F. hair. For those of you who have been under rocks, J.B.F. stands for Just Been Fucked. Yes, I now go to work every day looking like I’ve just done sex. Apparently, this is becoming, as I have many customers tell me, “Oh! Your hair is so cute!” My gramma also raves about it every Sunday at church to anyone who will listen. So, I guess my point is, I shall not try to be someone I’m not. I shall go through life looking as though my Rockstar just got done shagging me.

To all you Curly-Headed People, I salute you.


Filed under Beauty, Humor, Life, Uncategorized