Great Clips continues to send me more coupons in the mail. They’re addressed to my old roommate, Mitch and even come with his name printed on each coupon in the set of three. Usually, they get me a deal about half the original price of a haircut.
I’ve never had a problem with Great Clips accepting the coupons. If they ever did, I imagine I’d take out the deed to my house and say, “Hahahaha! SEE! I own the property at that address! You HAVE to accept these coupons. It’s state law!”
This past weekend was no different, except they asked me to sign the coupon before I handed it over. I curiously asked why and the attended responded with, “Corporate makes us ask you to sign it. They’re trying to keep employees from pocketing the difference of a regular haircut as a tip.”
I looked at her and said, “You know what that means, right? It means someone at Great Clips HQ has the job of looking over all these signed coupons, figuring out what the horrid handwriting actually says, and then comparing it to a record of my haircut history to determine if I indeed used the coupon and no money was lost.”
She looked at me as if she wanted to quit or cry. Maybe both.
Recently I was invited to a meeting where a tie was called “appropriate attire”. I’m not real sure what that means, because I have no idea when a tie should ever be “appropriate”. Aside from the fact they represent an establishment of traditionalists, they’re dorky.
The security personnel in my office wear ties — even the women. I find that odd and incredibly sexist in that it blurs the line between what men can wear and what women can wear. If we don’t regain that line, what will our children think? They’ll think it’s okay for boys to wear dresses and girls to wear pant suits Hillary Clinton-style.
Regardless, I have to figure out the tie thing. I’ve worn a tie once. I was in 7th grade and attended a tour of the United Nations. I remember it being a hot, humid day and the tie seemed to serve no other purpose than to act as an air lock on my neck. It effectively sealed off the rest of my body making me a nice steamy moist slab of beef.
Remembering how to tie the tie was another adventure. In that I had to search Google and YouTube for half an hour before I could find a tutorial that seemed easy enough to follow and wasn’t made by some guy’s dark, grainy dark web cam. He could have been tieing a tie, I thought, or he could have been tieing the noose around his neck before committing suicide. I’m really not sure.
Either way, I managed to get the tie tied into something called the Half Windsor knot. I assume the other half of the knot will form in my throat when I put it on.