i know you hate me with a passion and want to hurt me because of some OT bullshit involving your ex-boyfriend, but please to not be trying to crocodilesnap the titanium-plate hair straightener onto my metal lip ring, you violent psychopath skank. at best it'd conduct the heat and hurt like a mofo for a few minutes, at worst i could get severely burned or the straightener could blow up.
the first and second time you tried it.. okay. it could be an accident.whatever. but the third time, i'm not putting up with that shit.
denying it madly when i jump up and demand to see your manager isn't going to work: with this hair place being a haven for sixteen-year-olds who've taken a haircutting course, someone got smart and foresaw douchebaggery like this.. and installed cameras at every station.the manager agreed with me that it looked very deliberate, just from the tapes.and she also doesn't care that blahblah i apparently want to sleep with andrew.oh, and pulling an expression similar to (but a thousand times less disgustingly cute than) my icon.. it won't help you when it comes to dangerous bad_service.
i'm not a mean vicious bitch or anything, but: lol, you're screwed.
[edit for clarification:
i had absolutely no idea she was working there.
if it'd been a haircut or a dye or anything permanent, i wouldn't have let her anywhere near me. but since it was just a straighten and they were pretty busy, i decided to take the chance that she would hold back her failvendetta for all of fifteen minutes so as to keep the only job she can get. i didn't want to be a fussy customer_suck.]justthatclassy