Moshi Moshi means *%$#@$#%&%$!! (or, how to not get a job without really trying)

The down side of owning a business is that you are never off of work. I spend most of my nights falling asleep to struggles, accomplishments, to-do’s, funny stories, financials, things to be fixed and anything else that’s on my plate that day or the next 50 years. I will wake up at 2 in the morning in a cold sweet remembering that I had forgotten that 12:30 clients cup of coffee with 3 creams having left it in the microwave not to be discovered until tomorrow (note to self: get coffee out of microwave first thing before you pull it out later believing it to be your coffee that you’ve microwaved 6 times that day and microwaving it again and actually drinking it) or that I forgot to email the name of a repair man that a client asked for or, like 3am this morning, I write and rewrite responses (in my head) to random emails I get throughout the day. A client recently asked me if I ever got prison mail (by the way, apparently some inmates will see your picture on a web site and just write to you based on your appearance which seems quite promising for the singles! A great addition to or You don’t even need to fill out that silly sheet with all your hopes dreams, weight, and height which mean nothing in the end after your potentials have judged you solely on your web pic anyway. Seems kind of the same thing with inmates but they skip all that crap and go straight to the chase. Maybe that’s how they get all the ladies. Seems refreshing, in a way). I said, “No but mine are scarier. I get job inquiries. Job inquiries from stylists still in school (I guess maybe it is kind of a similar inmate thing).

We have an area on our site that has our picture with a silly questionnaire attached which is just James Lipton’s 10 questions from Inside The Actor’s Studio. One of the questions is “what’s your favorite cuss word?” which is funny to have someone like Meryl Streep answer and it’s really just supposed to be silly and fun, especially when queried by the haughty/pretencious James Lipton himself. I have only had 2 comments about this being a question on our site. One came from a woman who found it horribly unprofessional and the other from a budding cosmetology student who wrote this:

“I looked on your website and was so happy to see the staff picking their favorite curse word. Just a few days ago we had our break room taken away because we were caught cussin’. We were told if we ever cursed in our salon we would be immediately fired. My response… I’ll never work anywhere that I can’t cuss.”

Repsonse #1 (3am):

Whazzup and hallef*ckingluyah! Finally, someone who really gets what this friggin’ salon is all about! Cause you know what we specialize in? Color? Oh, hell to the f*ckin’ no! Razor cuts? Oh, get the f*ck out of town. Balayage? Bitch, puleeze! Everyone knows what our specialty is. We specialize in no holds barred, d*ck out of the pants, @#@ damned m@#th*f#ckin’ straight up cussin’!  No advanced education necessary. You are gonna save us a bunch o’dollahs! Trouble in school just for cussin”? That sh*t is whack, dawg! Well, you are gonna get your graduate degree here, amiga. When you work here, you are gonna be all, “What kind of m*th#f*ckin color ya want?”, “How do you like your b*tch ass hair cut?” “Oh, hell to the f*ckin no, we don’t have wine. We’re out. Damn.””

Ok, i will stop here because this is a never ending response for me. It can go on for days or at least hours, as it does at 3 in the morning. I think this woman has given me tourettes of some sort.

Response #2 (4:15am):


Response #3 (4:21am as I always try to avoid 4:20, it’s just too stupid but hey, it’s always 4:20 somewhere…GAH! Tourettes’s!):

Dearest Madam, I, as the owner of this establishment, am the only one contractually permitted to curse inside of this salon and I can assure you that I only reserve it for my employees and it is never celebratory.

Response #4 (4:20am):

Hiya, Have you ever heard of the Wiener’s Circle? It’s in Chicago but hitchhiking is relatively easy these days. Please go there immediately. You don not even have to finish hair school. These are your people. My advice to any young person emailing a possible job request or actually writing a cover letter is to ask your Grandma to write it for you and send that. If you don’t have a Gramma, go to the senior center and find one, preferably (in this day and age) over 75 and somewhat well-heeled. You don’t need a hippy Gramma writing it, you need old school. Get some interview advice from them as well as any life advice they wanna dish out to you whether they’ve ever had a career outside of the home or not. Listen even if they do not have a 3 ring circus of tattoos and piercings. Listen even if you think they’re out of the loop and have never used the Good Lord’s name in vein. They will give you all the basic information for well, maybe not GETTING the job but at least not blowing it before you’ve gotten your foot in the door. They know all the good stuff like not cussin’, not chewing gum, basic introduction, how to sit patiently and look interested. Older people have knowledge that is still useful and applicable, even for you. Just find friends outside of your age range and LISTEN for JUST ONE HOLY %$&^%$^&^**$#@ second and you’ll get farther faster.

*This is similar to what I think when I’m being catcalled which has happened at least 10 times before 1988, stopping when I turned 17. I always felt like yelling back, “Yeah, come and get it! All yours! Right now, take your hat off, let’s just do it in that fork lift over there!” I have always been sure that this is the correct response that would freak them out but have never been willing to try it. But let me know if it woks for you, in whatever way that means).


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