My Time as a Hair Salon Assistant

Japanesemelody

April 3, 2026

My Time as a Hair Salon Assistant

I have a strong sense of discomfort toward hairdressers. When I was a teenager, I worked part-time at a local hair salon, helping with shampooing and customer service.

The owner of the salon had only completed junior high school and seemed to have a complex about his educational background. He wasn’t unintelligent—after all, he had become a business owner—but he appeared to have had a difficult upbringing, and there was something twisted about his personality.

He would constantly ask me very personal questions. For example, he would ask things like, “Have you had sexual experience yet?” or “Which woman in this adult magazine do you think has the most erotic pose?” Since the salon had many male customers, there were a lot of men’s magazines there.

Because of his personality, several assistants ended up quitting. One girl who was about to leave wrote her pager number on a piece of paper for me. I put it in my pouch, but for some reason, the owner told me, “You shouldn’t contact her.” That meant he had looked inside my pouch without permission, which made me feel very uncomfortable.

What angered me the most was when he mocked my sister. He said, “What does your sister do? Oh, she’s a university student? Which department? Agriculture? So does that mean she’s going to become a farmer? Hahaha.”

He didn’t even understand what is studied in an agriculture department, yet he mocked people who go to university out of his own inferiority complex. To me, he seemed like an unhappy person, and I now realize it was a mistake to endure working in that environment.

As a result, I took out my stress on my family.

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My Time as a Hair Salon Assistant

I have a strong sense of discomfort toward hairdressers.

When I was a teenager, I worked part-time at a local hair salon, helping with shampooing and customer service.

The owner of the salon had only completed junior high school and seemed to have a complex about his educational background.

He wasn’t unintelligent—after all, he had become a business owner—but he appeared to have had a difficult upbringing, and there was something twisted about his personality.

He would constantly ask me very personal questions.

Since the salon had many male customers, there were a lot of men’s magazines there.

Because of his personality, several assistants ended up quitting.

One girl who was about to leave wrote her pager number on a piece of paper for me.

I put it in my pouch, but for some reason, the owner told me, “You shouldn’t contact her.”

That meant he had looked inside my pouch without permission, which made me feel very uncomfortable.

What angered me the most was when he mocked my sister.

He said, “What does your sister do?

Oh, she’s a university student?

Which department?

Agriculture?

So does that mean she’s going to become a farmer?

Hahaha.”

To me, he seemed like an unhappy person, and I now realize it was a mistake to endure working in that environment.

As a result, I took out my stress on my family.

Japanesemelody

April 4, 2026

My Time as a Hair Salon Assistant