It’s the busy season at the the salon. We’re mobbed every night. That’s why I need Amelia and Eileen to help me. They’re the best hires we’ve ever had and I adore them both.
I usually leave the girls to work the front counter because as long as I’ve been here I’m accustomed to doing everything. So when it gets crazy busy in here, I’m happy to just run around and clean beds and not have to deal with all of the complicated intake. That’s great practice for the girls, because that’s the nuts and bolts of the job and will make them more independent of me and they’ll be able to run the salon without me.
Unlike in my past corporate jobs, I as a leader train my employees to walk where I walk, not where I point. The more they know and the more efficient they become, the more valuable they become to the company. In the rat race I usually worked for loser no talents that had just been there longer than anybody else because they were mentally incapable of getting a better job so they became middle managers.
Losers. When they met me they saw the talent and they held it down. They spent most of their time having meetings and controlling the staff and pretending to do their jobs and justifying their positions.
I’ve always been a shark. Let me swim and I’ll run down and kill the accounts all day long. It’s not about the money, it’s just low self esteem and talent to be number one because your father told you were a loser.
I’m a deadly sales guy who will work until they pat me in the face with a shovel.
I happened to be at the front counter with Eileen for a moment last week when an attractive 30 year old, brown eyed, fit, blonde, came in to tan. She said she was a transplant from California. I was running my usual program of charm on her and wine had been discussed.
She lit up when I mentioned, oceans of free chardonnay.
“I’m a flight attendant and I’ve been recently sent here to be in Philly as my hub.”
Oh, baby seal that knows nothing about the city or where to drink?
“Oh, I love that. Flight attendant. You’re not around all of the time!”
I have to be honest, that would be a good gig for me. I love my time alone.
I can see we’re connecting and shes giggling. I can add her to my circle. Maybe.
A week passes and she appears again.
“Hey. I just got in from L.A. How are you?”
“I’m good. Great to see you.”
I walk her back to her room. “I’m actually off Saturday, (phenomenon because I’m always working) If you’d like we could meet up for a drink. Your new in town and i know all the good spots.”
“That would be awesome. Text me on Saturday.”
Cassie seems great. We actually joked about how I had lost a friend with her same name because she moved away and it almost seemed like she wanted to be the new Cassie.
I miss the real one, but maybe this girl will be a sweet band aid for a few drinks.
I push her my contact info and leave it at that. I’m 55, she’s 31 (allegedly) so we’re still stretching it on a newbie.
She gets back to me before she exits the sunbed. This is a good sign.
I’m not looking for anything, but I just love the energy and the game of meeting someone new.
I discover I’m off Saturday.
I’m going to text Cassie and see if she’d like to meet me for a drink.
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