The Annointed Fig

See, I have this friend…

Boy, after “it was a dark and stormy night”, this has got to be the most overused line on the planet.  And nonetheless, there ARE stormy nights — and there actually ARE genuine friends with genuine problems.

FBI'S Most Wanted: Considered Stinky and Dangerous. Feed Slops On Sight!

Like my friend, for instance, that I will call Jane Doe — to protect the guilty, in this instance.

Now, by all accounts, Jane is tops at what she does.  She is funny, loyal, happily married.  And she needs money.  Well, who does not?  Unfortunately, neo-con claims regarding the new administration notwithstanding, this ain’t socialism yet.

To finish setting up the stage, Jane is a hairdresser.  And apparently, not many stylists get paid a guaranteed salary these days.  Like Jane tells me, “50% commission off of northing’s still nothing”.

Not too long ago (certainly, less than the trial 90 days), Jane has found a new job.  Not a Paul Mitchell salon (those of its ilk incidentally requiring an unpaid internship BEFORE initiating the same generous 50% commission agreement), but a nice enough place with a steady non-commission paycheck.  “Not many of them,” says Jane.  “Most stylists are staying put.”

Which Jane would have loved to do — and is still doing (minus the loving) – if not for the crude, rude, slovenly, thankless, talentless piece of cow dung that had a good fortune to come from the same country as the salon’s owners.  Now, apparently, the gentleman (and I do apologize for so abusing the term) had been marginally more tolerable before his divorce (scuttlebutt says he was altogether responsible for) has become finalized last year.  Upon which, the man has really fell off that “civilized behavior” bandwagon.

A man, whose customers rarely come back, who doesn’t even take pride in his work has an unmitigated gall to yell at the lady stylists trying to help him.  He steals their food.  Berates them.  Skirts the edges of sexual harassment.  Demands the women scrub the john — and clean up after him once he’s done abusing his customers’ hairdos.

From what my friend tells me, it’s gotten to the point where she’s considering calling in sick the day she needs to spend more than a few minutes in the company of this singular representative of the male species (working with others, and being a daughter and wife to two more, I can with all surety say he’s altogether NOT a representative of the entire gender).  But what he lacks in company, he certainly makes up in virulence of his behavior.  Supposedly unable to even fathom what he’s doing wrong — yet consistently ignoring all attempts to correct his NUMEROUS faux pas, he has singlehandedly managed to make even a manager’s life a fun slice of hell.  Need I clarify she’s also a woman?

The problem, Jane explains, is that the owners, confronted by their female employees wanting recourse from the incessant abuse, blithely suggest they shake his hand.  Really, they shrug, he isn’t doing anything wrong.

To my suggestion the lady stylists get the regulars to complain about his shoddy work and unpleasant environment in the salon, courtesy of theirs truly, Jane gathered some people had.  Considering, the donkey’s uncle is still around, the customer is king — just not at that particular venue.

That said, guys, I’m open to advice.  I really wish I had something to pass along to Jane.  All of mine thus far fell through: the women are afraid to lose their jobs.  Economy being as it is, I can see why.  They don’t know if they should go to the police.  Deliberately sabotaging him doesn’t seem like a safe — or kosher thing to do.  And befriending him, after many years that he has been spiffying up the joint seems both transparent — and stomach-churning.

Anything else?  Anyone?  Jane and I could use some creative thinking!

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