On Respect: a job Memoir
I began working at Dessange in Chevy Chase in late August/Early September of last year. I was recommended for the reception job by one of my sorority sisters, and $15 a job to “answer the phone” seemed like easy money. Since my school load is relatively low this semester, I was determined to find a nice, easy job that would help pay the bills with all the free time I had.
I can’t say I wasn’t warned. The day I interviewed for the job I was greeted by then-assistant-manager, Mae, whom was very kind, and very big, she was 8 months and a half pregnant, showed me the salon and spa; in a matter of minutes taking me back to the apartment-turned storage unit that the call the office. There, I met with the manager, Tim, whom asked basic questions until he started telling me about the skills needed for the job.
He clearly did not even gasp at my resume prior to the meeting. I was asked if I knew how to use a computer, a phone and to have thick skin because “french people and europeans” can be really rude and condescending. This, according to Tim, included “crazy bitches,” often referring to the salon as a hospice or nursing home, which he found amusing. Immediately I knew that something was off. Why was I sitting in a table with a man doing crafts, asking me basic questions that are at the very top of my resume? I didn’t immediately have this thought, but I was determined to get the job and agreed to everything he asked, which included blackout dates where I was not allowed to take days off.
The day I was hired, I was handed an almost-100-page employee handbook that included codes, specific information on how to run certain programs, which I mastered in my first few weeks there. By my second week, Mae said I was ready to go man the desk and there I was. By my third week, I noticed something was off. My co-worker Shaunta was not really talking to me, not that she ever did, but there was an atmosphere in the air that indicated tensions were rising. Within a week, she resigned.
Later on I learned she had resigned because Tim, the salon manager, had fired Mae, Danaya (the makeup artist) and Shaunta “had found a better job.” A better job? Really? Impossible, I thought. More days passed and Tim called me to the office to let me know I was the only person aside from him working for management. This meant, that in a salon with seven full time stylists and four aestheticians, two people were in charge of maintenance, appointments, bills, clients, etc; and one was working part time, while juggling a 12 credit course load.
I have to say that surprisingly enough Tim and I got through it. The more I worked at the salon the more I found that Tim was not really bad at all and seemed to have a grip of everything despite having to single-handedly manage a salon with a $40K deficit and counting (so I'm told).
It took a toll on me physically. On one hand, I learned how to manage 11 person’s books at the same time for months, but clients can be very specific, and when they become unhappy, there is a high chance that the receptionist (me), will get yelled at or even harassed. While I worked at Dessange, I was called a whore, hypocrite, racist, incompetent, among other very crude words when a stylist was running late or someone’s color did not turn out as expected. After some time, I got tired of trying to find solutions for them and swallowing my pride, I began to show signs of depression (and even physically looking sick).
This was ok from my perspective since I was “warned” by management even before I was hired. The more it happened the less surprised I was, to the point where it no longer affected me. Nonetheless, I was not prepared to receive that outrageous, disrespectful treatment from the same people that advocate against it.
There were a few instances where I knew that I was not treated right. Months after Mae was fired, Tim hired a woman named Carmen as assistant manager. A former stylist and colorist, from what she had told me, she had no prior experience in management… and has been Tim’s BEST FRIEND, for over 17 years. I can’t say I didn’t like her at first. When she first arrived at Dessange I was working a 30+ hours and being a full time student, so having the occasional cover when I was feeling sick and some extra help at the desk was a blessing from God. She came of as kind. Daughter of military parents, she lived in Japan and quickly we learned a lot about each other. During those same days, Tim interviewed my Spirit Team friend Kelly and she also started working at the desk, and I was happy as can be.
They say that the time where you know things need to change is the turning point but with law school ahead and my last day being May 10th, I never thought I would end up quitting on the 20th of April.
Carmen began to show her true colors when power got into her head. I think that the moment she realized she had subordinates something in her mind switched. Carmen began constantly looking at the security cameras, coming to the desk few times a day asking for random things such as dusting (the already dusted bread), calling the front desk checking that I was doing “what I was supposed to” and not just “reading a book,” and this was something that began to, in teen words, piss me off like no other.
I never confronted her directly about her constant nagging. A certain part of me believed that she was just crazy and this was her first real encounter with leadership, so I just let it slide. Nonetheless, I will never tolerate disrespect, and when she did, I took notes of it on my phone (which I still keep, in case you’re wondering). This went on for months. The constant nagging began not only affecting me, but the clients and the stylists. She began implementing rules that were supposedly aimed at selling more products and marketing, yet it made customers feel harassed (yes, she came up with prescription pads where stylist and aestheticians are supposed to tell you everything thats wrong with your hair/skin). I was never asked what I thought. Kelly was never asked what she thought. Even Laura, who was hired just 2 months ago told me she felt the salon was a hostile environment between the subordinates and management.
On April 20th, I decided to say something.
Carmen came up in her 6’ft figure and handed me and Laura an almost thirty-page, double-spaced stack of green paper for us to do inventory, with another paper with meticulous instructions on how to do it properly. It was 1pm, on a Friday, one of the busiest days of the salon, I had 3 calls on hold, and “Oh, Tim wants it for 5:30pm today.” The mathematician in me has never been entirely skilled, but in a salon with 72 appointments, two phone lines and a very good location in DC, odds are, the salon will be busy all day. Naturally, I was surprised by the strange request, and called the office to tell Tim that I would volunteer to do it, for free, on Monday when there is no one in the salon so that I can do inventory properly and without distractions. Fifteen minutes later, I quit my job.
I quit my job not because I thought Carmen was not only unequipped for the job, but also plain condescending and rude. She treated the aestheticians as her maids (even once telling Mouna to “clean out the closet” if she has really nothing else to do”) and took stylist for granted, even to the point where she personally attacked a stylist because “his family came to visit him too often.” Since these events never affected me directly, and my coworkers to get through it, I had no reason to quit the job. However, upon offering my “5 cents” regarding what I believe the most efficient way to conduct inventory, I was personally attacked wile sitting in an office chair less than 1ft away from from the duo themselves, Tim and Carmen. After being lectured on why I should just follow instructions without even having the opportunity to give input (damn, reminds me of authoritarian societies! how convenient) I finally told Tim the following words:
"Hey, so as you know I have studied in my business classes several customer service tactics and doing inventory when there is only one person at the desk really puts down our selling potential. I think that the best I can suggest is to do it tomorrow when theres 3 people or I can come in on Monday and do it for free. "
It was then when I received the following response, which left me #FunEmployed:
“Okay, so your just going to come in here with your business degree and tell me what to do. You are a child and I have been in this for longer than you have been born so I don’t appreciate you giving me any suggestions.”
Keep in mind, Tim is a 38 year old stylist, who fired all his staff within a week, kept a 22 year old in charge of an entire salon for months, yelling at the 22 year old who helped him when he had no staff. Me, who has remained loyal to the salon for months, at its highs and lows, without ever voicing a single complaint. Following his reponse, I remained quiet. After I gathered my thoughts, I responded in a calm tone, "All that being said, I don't think I can work here anymore." Stood, and left.
It is for his audacity, rudeness and the tone that I chose to stay silent and no longer associate myself with a managerial team that resorts to insulting and harassing their own employees to improve their credibility.
A note for Dessange in Chevy Chase (In the off chance you actually read this, since you have so much time watching the security cameras... ALL DAY!)