Awkward Hairdresser Conversations

I used to be of the "cheapest is best" style of hair person. I would go to whatever CostClips I could find every four months or so and have them cut the shit out of my hair.

That changed with wife.

"You're an adult now, you should have an adult haircut."

Fair point, I figure. I have a weird shaped head with a bald spot on one temple and a knob of a skull in back, so it was always a crapshoot weather the latest haircut would accommodate these things or just make me look bad for a month while my hair grew out. Like I said, I didn't care for more than 30 years about this. If I could get my hair cut for 10 bucks or less, I didn't care if it looked like it was done by machete.

Now I go to Aveda every three months to wife's hairdresser. They wash my hair as well, which feel really nice on an early Friday morning before work. I still feel like shit for having to spend 40 bucks plus tip on a haircut, but I will admit it looks good every time rather than about half the time. I agree that part of working in the professional world is having a decent haircut. Although the engineers i work with haven't all caught on to this.

I do not have the gift of gab. At gatherings, I sit and listen, sometimes I have a fun anecdote to add, but I dont' know how to barge my way into a conversation and the moment passes onto new topics I know nothing about. With hairdressers, my life has been silent. After the "what do you do" conversation and the "where are you from" bundle of fun, the conversation dies.

Sometimes I just listen to other people talk - about their kids, their lake home renovations, and other things that just make me bored.

Yesterday though, I had the longest conversation ever with the stylist. But we still spent the last 30 minutes in silence.

Here's how it went:

Her: Any plans for the weekend?

Me: Well, we're going to the new Star Trek movie tonight, but that's about it.

Her: I have never seen any of the Star Trek or Star Wars movies or shows.

Me: Wow, I bet you get yelled at all the time when you tell people that.

Her: Yup. People get really angry about it.

Me: People get angry at wife and I when they find out we've never been to the MN state fair.

Her: Are you kidding? You haven't been?

Me: Nope.

Her: That's crazy. You need to go. I go a few times a year.

Me: Well, we have only lived here for one of them, and it was super hot last year.

Her: Doesn't matter. If you are in a five state area, you are obligated.

Me: Well, maybe we'll go. We are going to a lot of craft fairs this summer. I hate craft fairs, but I want to write about them.

Her: I hate craft fairs too. Tree stumps, felt mittens, wind chimes, ugh.

Me: I know.

We shared our mutual loathing of crafts for another couple minutes. And then all was silence.

I thought it was great that she got mad at me for something trivial immediately after implying how weird it was for others to get mad at her for something trivial. Maybe that's why I don't do small talk - I like the clashes sometimes too much.

Social media experience is NOT A THING/My new dentist sucks

Been applying like a mug to get wife a permanent gig. This contract work at my place of biz wasn't going to last forever. In the past week, we've sent out 30 or so apps, contacted two placement firms that are talking to wife, and I did some LinkedIn networking like a mug and got another person in a local business communication group I belong to to take a look at wife for a social media position at their company.

Now, social media is like the baby of a species you have never seen before. No parents. You don't know how to deal with it. And it's only a couple years old. Some people get lucky and have successes, but when other people try to repeat that success, it's just white noise.

What works in social media is new, interesting things. No matter how many experts you wrangle, or examples you bring in, that's the bottom line. You just have to keep throwing out new things and hoping something will stick.

But, this potential employer wanted someone with a few years of professional social media experience. THAT IS NOT A THING. The damn concept was unknown a few years ago. Companies did social media, but not many, and not to the extent they do very recently, and certainly not as a full time gig. So I want to ask this person what the fuck, but can't cause there still might be a position at that company down the road that will work. We're meeting her for coffee maybe in the future, so perhaps I'll get to ask this question.

Secondly, I had three fucking cavities filled this week. We used to go to this dude in Fargo for our dental needs, and he was AWESOME. Only dentist wife has ever liked. I agree. He made dental work seem easy.

So I was somewhat relieved to find out the dentist we chose here had gone to school with him.

Wife got a cavity filled on Tuesday. She moaned and complained that it was a lot worse than before. I scoffed. "Dentistry gets better every year."

Then I went in last night, and had three fucking cavities filled. And oh my GOD it was like being waterboarded. the stupid drill was shooting water down my throat so I couldn't breathe. The dentist was like, try to breathe through your nose (with my mouth open,which I have NEVER understood as advice. Am I just weird or is it impossible to breathe through your nose with your mouth open?) Then she left after filling one and drilling the other two so she could check on another patient.

I welcomed the chance to breathe. but my tongue started to explore the drilled teeth and holy shit do they just strip mine mouths now? I felt like the entirety of my tooth was gone except a couple peaks around the edges.

Then she mentioned possible root canals in the future and I'm OLD I"M SO OLD JESUS FUCK.

Anyway, here's a better blog about dentists. Enjoy.

Tonight I saw Crazy

Tonight I saw crazy. Wife and I left work and on the way home, I convinced her we should just stop at the grocery store and get her a flu shot. I already had mine a month ago, but she was a walking target, and she's hard enough to take care of when she has a cold.

The ladies at the grocery store pharmacy thought it was funny that I was "making" her get one, as wife put it.

After the shot, we had to linger around the store for 10 minutes to make sure wife didn't have a crazy reaction to the shot. Unfortunately, they told her the side effects that could happen, so for the next ten minutes, wife kept telling me her lips were tingling and that she was feeling weak.

We got some coffee creamer, energy drinks, and much needed toilet paper as we are down to our last rolls. We were discussing whether we should get buns or not when it happened.

This 40 something blonde woman with a cart and 12 pack of soda comes up into the bread area. "Hey, excuse me!"

She's talking to another woman that's near us.

"Excuse me, but you have no right to hit my car like that."

Obviously, shit was going to go down. I didn't get a look at the other woman. The 40 something blonde was well dressed with a long black coat and looked "Businessy." That's the only term I can think of to describe her. She was talking on about the parking lot.

Wife and I, being highly non-confrontational creatures except with each other and our families, scooted down the way a bit and out of ear shot. I had my back to them. Wife kept watching them over my shoulder. Not long after, the blonde woman came by again, her wheeled cart bumped my hand cart. She was looking at my wife.

"Nutcase."

She was looking for some sort of comraderie with the wife. But she wasn't getting it. Wife and I moved on. Wife had forgotten about any tingling lips and faintness she had been experiencing.

As with everything that isn't fiction, there were two things that stuck with me.

One, the woman had taken the time between whatever had happened in the parking lot and then to get a cart, grab a 12 pack of soda, and then track the other woman down in the bakery. WHO DOES THAT!?

Two, the best she could come up with during all that time was "You have no right to hit my car."

Me to wife while driving home: "I mean, really, what do you say to that?"

I told wife this is why I want her with me when I leave the house, because things like this are too much for one person to absorb without help.

Wife: "You mean this happens all the time?"

Me: "No, but it happens enough."

Tonight I met Paul F. Tompkins

Tonight I met Paul F. Tompkins, after listening to his podcast, and many other podcasts where he guest appears, for about two years.

Two years ago, I had no idea who he was. I was just starting to listen to podcasts as a way of getting through the grinding days. You know. Life. I was working on one of the few impressions I had in my toolkit at the time, making wife laugh by going into cake boss mode and complaining that there was no way I could get everything done she asked me to do.

Then I heard Paul F Tompkins' Cake Boss on a podcast, and it was brilliant, much more than I could have ever dreamed of. Here was a gem of a person.

The more I heard him on various podcasts: Doug Loves Movies, Comedy Bang Bang (then Comedy Death Ray), WTF, and many others, the more I came to appreciate this genuine, pleasant person with a cadre of characters and an arsenal of awesome. He started his own podcast as well, the Pod F Tomkast, which is consistently wonderful. All this was a thing to look forward to when trying to stay sane throughout our crappy year. If there's anyone who can understand a crappy year, it's a stand-up comedian, I think. A lot of them have been through some tough times, and hopeless desperation.

Last year, he came to the cities to be in WITS, a show hosted by MPR's John Moe. By then, wife and I were deep in the job hunt, and I would have given anything to be there by then. However, things didn't work out. This year, when I heard that WITS would once again have him, I was excited, but also very poor, unemployed, and couldn't justify it.

My wonderful wife took matters into her own hands. "We're going." She said. She got the tickets for WITS, and then it happened to be the thing to celebrate my first week in my new writing job. It was a wonderful night, and when Paul announced his show on Saturday, wife turned to me and said, "Did you know about it?"

Me: Yes, but I didn't think we could.

Her: You got a job. We're doing this if it means nothing for the next week.

Me: OK.

So tonight, I saw Paul F Tompkins for the first time doing stand-up. It was delightful. Lots of focus on his relationship with his wife, which as a newlywed, I loved. Then he announced that he would be selling DVDs and such after the show.

For a third time, like Peter with Jesus, except in a good way instead of a deny-ey way, in fact the only commonality is the three so it's not really that good a comparison, Wife turned to me and said "Go." 

Here's what went through my head while waiting in the line down the aisle to meet Paul F Tompkins.

"OK, what are you going to say? Is there anything charming in your bucket? Will I need to go to the bathroom before I get to the front of this line? What if I fart? OK, keep it cool. I can be like 'j'accuse! You made my cake boss impression obsolete!" No that's way too creepy. 'I know why you dress up so nice, it's so you are always the best looking dude in a picture.' No, jerky. 'Hey, I'm the one guy who listens to your podcast as you addressed me in the latest addition.' No, it's all so stupid. You know what, why don't you just be yourself?"

So here's what did happen.

Me: Hello

Paul: Hello!

Me: It’s a pleasure to meet you. I'd like to buy your DVD.

Paul: Thank you. Sure.

Me: My wife also wants to take a picture.

Paul: Absolutely.

Me: (sitting down). I love your podcast.

Paul: Thank you.

Me: You know, your podcast follows me on Twitter, and I don't know why.

Paul: Well, the podcast loves those who love it.

Me: Well, thank you so much. And have a wonderful night.

Paul: You too. Thank you.

And that's about it. He was lovely and polite and I hope I was the same. I was shaking as we left the theater. Wife made me thank her 10 times on the way home. She loves her some credit. Unlike Peter. Peter couldn't get the credit of knowing the J-man fast enough away from him. 

To end it, a picture with my head cropped out. This blog is anonymous after all. But it does have an unintentional side effect of making Paul look surprised and pleased to be sitting next to a creepy headless ghost. Ghostcatcher?