this conversation actually happened on saturday at work:
me (in an overly chipper manner)(…i always accidentally yell when i answer the phone at work…): HI! waikiki beach tanning, this is brooke.
man: do you guys do waxing?
me: well, no. we are a tanning booth that just…tans? but i know the place next door to us does!
man: what type of waxing do they do?
me: the…good kind? i think they wax eyebrows and lips and chins and…faces?
man: do they do manscaping? like, brazilians?
me: (not masking my disgust) no…
man: i’m in need of a good one.
me: oh. well. right. perhaps in draper…or at a spa…or, somewhere?
man: that’s far! i am actually sitting in the bus outside of your salon right now…
(look up and see decrepit 80-year-old man in a large school bus enthusiastically waving at me…i slowly raise my hand and wave back and try to not. visualize. anything.)
me: oh, wow! hi! waving! at me! it’s you! waving!
man: yes. it is.
man: well, i better keep trying. it’s urgent, you know what i mean? (laughing) bye, honey.
puking, puking, PUKING! why do these things always happen to me?!