Posted by Posted by Dark Beige On 12:35

Friday July 3rd, 4.20 pm

So, celebrities keep dying. Every time I stop to scratch my ass, it seems like some other loser I've never heard of who starred in a lame British sitcom or had a giant nose is dead. I think they should start calling some kind of celebrity register, like we have to do at the start of every class, to see who's still around and who's just kicked the bucket.

"Adams?" - "Here"

"Aguilera?" - "Here, whoaoawhoaowhoaoohooo"

"Allen, Kirstie?" - "Here, eating"

"Allen, Woody?" - "Here, dating a kid" etc.

I know it would take a while, there are a lot of celebrities out there, particularly when you count all the douchebags who are only famous because they're on MTV shows, but don't tell me these celebrities haven't got time to kill. All they ever seem to be doing is "relaxing on holiday" or buying Starbucks. Or dying.

But anyway, they may have time to kill, but I very nearly had my precious holiday freedom stolen away from me by a fate worse than death: work. It's been coming to a head for a while, even though in the end I managed to swerve the whole Office World thing (they've "got nothing coming up" after all, which I find suspicious - why did that ass clown Eisenhower agree to see me then? Does he actually think that there's someone BETTER out there for his crummy little job? What a total dick. But I can't really complain, as it's what I wanted all along, which makes me angry).

But mom's stupid friend Carolyn goes to this fancy (AKA faggy) hair salon over in Bellbrook, and she's friends with the manager, who told her that there's a job going at the moment for an assistant (ASSistant, natch), to like help sweep up hair and make coffees and shit.

Before I can even say "only gays work in hair salons", Carolyn had fixed me up a trial day, which was yesterday. The day from hell.

I arrived at about 9 like I was told, at this Salon called Pier X. Pier X, what a crummy name. It sounds like a date rape drug Randy would try to buy on the internet. And the X on the sign looked like a crummy pair of scissors, which is SO lame, and although the words Pier X clearly mean nothing to anyone with half a brain, I had a strange suspicion that it might be some kind of play on words. Later, one of the retards who work there told me it was kind of like 'Peer Pressure', in a way, and I was too angry to say anything about that. I still am. What total boners!

I don't get this whole need that hair salons always have to add puns and jokes to the name, like 'Hair Today' and 'Cool for Cuts' and 'I Can be Your Hairo, Baby' (OK, I made the last one up). You never see undertakers with stupid names like 'Coffin Up Blood' or 'It's Your Funeral', so why do hairdressers feel the need? Because they're all total ass clowns (I now speak from experience).

Anyways, I get there and I'm greeted by this manager woman Brenda, and she's nice and friendly and all, and gets me a Coke as she talks through my jobs for the day. First, she said, I've got to help set up each stylist's work area with all the products and combs and scissors and shit, then when the store opens at 10, I've got to offer each customer a drink when they arrive, and co-ordinate taking them over to the washer and then back to the stylist to have their hair cut. I also have to sweep up all the hair on the floor , from all the haircuts that are happening.

This is already starting to sound like a LOT of work, and I'm getting a little pissed as no one told me it would involve so much thought and attention, but believe me, I was about to get a lot more pissed when the 'Head stylist' Anton arrived. Anton, the head stylist. He definitely has 'styled' a lot of 'heads' if you know what I'm saying. Dick heads. With his mouth.

He was wearing this kind of low cut purple top that my mom would wear, and blue shorts and COWBOY BOOTS. That's right, I said it. Cowboy boots! In Dayton! What a total ass clown. And his hair was done in a stupid high quiff like he was all shocked about something, like a human exclamation mark, as if he was trying to stress the fact he sucks total ass.

This Anton was so affected and fake, but all the chicks there (some were kinda hot, but it was no America's Next Top Model in there, besides the bitching) were all fawning over him like they were totally in love with him or something. Every time he made a witty little remark or spoke in French or grabbed some girl's hair and told her she needed some work, they'd be whooping and hollering like Oprah just gave away a car to an immigrant or something. It made me sick.

Don't call me Columbo or nothing, but I knew this guy was gay, so I'm not totally sure what these chicks thought was gonna happen, but I thought that at least with this Anton commanding so much attention, I could just get through the day unnoticed, and sweep up some hair and shit.

That worked fine for the first few hours, everyone said hello but kind of ignored me and I just got on with my tedious job. The morning DRAGGED like a total bitch, like I must have looked at my watch every five minutes between ten and twelve, and it felt like a week had passed. But at least lunch was coming.

Then I was over sweeping by Anton's chair, and he stated looking at me all quizzical, really staring and kind of smiling with this little gay grin that made me feel uneasy. I didn't know how to react, and that made me feel uncomfortable and kinda hot and bothered. I said "do you want something?" and he was all like "I certainly do" and was kind of winking and being real gay. I carried on sweeping, trying to ignore him, and he was all giggling and making comments to the woman. It pissed me off, but I thought, so what, forget it, but it just kept going on all the way up to lunch.

He was all like "the cute factor in this salon has just taken a serious hike", and every time I went over near his chair to sweep up hair (I HAD to go by that chair, it's part of my job. There are only 8 chairs in Pier X so I have to spend an eighth of my time there), he'd be all like "My biggest fan can't stay away" and shit like "back again so soon, sugar?", and I was getting MAD.

Lunch finally came, and I went to get a Quiznos sub and soda and just chill out and get over my morning of hard labour. I was tired as shit. It's weird when you've got to kill time in another part of town, everything's so alien and different. Like, the chicks are different and the jocks are different, and you don't really belong but you wonder what life would be like if you did. Life would suck about the same, was my conclusion.

Back to work, and my day ain't getting any better, I'm kinda tired and surly and sick of being told what to do, and every time I look over that Anton's all grinning at me and giggling and shit. Then, because I'm so distracted with all this other shit, I don't at first realise that the worst person in the whole world has just entered the building - only Lisa friggin' Hames!

What the hell was SHE doing in Bellbrook? She lives in Vandalia! I should have known a pretentious bitch like her would come to Pier X, she probably even thinks the name sounds a little like peer pressure.

My only mission in life has become that of NOT being seen by Lisa Hames. I ran over to Brenda and asked her if I could take my afternoon break, I was due 15 minutes at some point, and thank you Lord, she says yes!

I go out to the staffroom to have a think, trying to work out how long it would be before Lisa will have left again. Working on an average time based on today's customers so far, I calculated that the best case scenario was 25 minutes, worst, a whole hour! It all depended on what she was having done, and who by. I sneaked a quick peek at Brenda's rota, and it said Lisa was down for a wash, cut and blowdry with that boner Anton! Disaster, that would be easily 50 minutes at best. I needed a plan B. Nothing came to me, unfortunately, and I waited in vain for an act of God like an earthquake or crazed gunman. The clock ticked round soon enough, and I had to go back out there. Only one thing for it: illness.

I walked back out and spotted Lisa in Anton's chair, and went straight over to Brenda and told her I felt sick. I said I was feeling strange and really needed to lie down. She looked straight at me for a second, thinking, and I just knew right then that God was on my side. But no, God was being a boner. She looked straight at me and said "if you go and lie down, don't come back, but I won't be paying you for today". Bitch! She must know that I NEED that money to get some X from Paul Jones' brother.

I had to stay, but I still had AGES before Lisa would be finished, so I tried to do anything to stay away from Anton's corner. Anton's corner, that place has had a lot of visitors, if you know what I'm saying, but if I could just stay out for another half an hour or so, life would be OK.

Well, eventually, Lisa's stupid sexy blonde hair is EVERYWHERE on the floor, and it's getting obvious. I was hoping no-one else has noticed, but that bitch Brenda said "get over there and sweep up that hair, Eric", like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Well, I tried to be circumcised or whatever, but soon enough I KNEW that that bitch Lisa had seen me, as we caught eyes in the mirror and she smiled. Not like a friendly smile, more of a "you total assclown" smile. I kind of nodded hello, but I was all flustered and embarassed and shit, and then Anton's all like "Have you met dreamboat? He's our resident little Romeo. He loves sweeping up hair. I've got some hair for you to sweep up, Romeo". Sorry, but that doesn't even make sense as a gay innuendo. Like what, is it supposed to be a reference to pubic hair or something? Because it stinks. Like his pubes probably do, his crabby pubes. His pubes that make ME crabby.

Anyway, Lisa's all like giggling and they're both looking at me in the reflection of the mirror, and I'm trying to be cool and smile and shit but actually I'm hot and pissed and I just say "you've got crabby pubes, you ass" (first thing that came to mind), put down my broom and walk over to Brenda and tell her I'm leaving and I don't care about getting paid. She's not really pissed, more just icy, and says "fine, get your stuff and go", and when I'm out the back getting my rucksack, I notice some of the bags of swept up hair, waiting for some asshole (ME) to put them in the trash, and a thought crosses my mind. I stuff one into my rucksack, and I'm off, going out the back way to avoid the humiliating laughter of Lisa, Anton et al.

Drawings by Timothy Winchester

I went round to Jake's and got stoned for the rest of the afternoon, and told mom and dad that Brenda had decided not to keep me on as she didn't think she could afford it. They smelled bullshit and it's definitely gonna come back to bite me on the ass, but for the moment, I'm OK. Last night I cycled back out there to Pier X with the rucksack full of hair, and some of my sister's glue. Checking nobody was around, I quickly grabbed the hair and started to glue clumps of it to the window. I originally wanted to spell out the word's "ANTON'S GAY" in hair, but man, have you ever tried to glue hair to a window? It's harder than you might think.


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1 Comment

  1. Anonymous Said,


    Posted on 4 July 2009 at 19:24


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