Fighting Your Corner
Number of Cockroach Sightings: 0 (we have moved digs – see below)
Number of Burekas Consumed: 3 (not too bad)
Number of Arsy Israelis Spotted: 9 (mostly hairdressers)
After weeks of living without aircon or hot water, some new friends of ours took pity on us. We feel rather like the characters in the book “Almonds and Raisins”, where large boats full of immigrants eascaping pogroms arrive in deepest darkest Manchester seeking a new life. They are given accomodation by the more established immigrants, often sleeping on kitchen floors. Thankfully, we are spared the kitchen floor and have been taken in by a very kind american couple, who love to clean, and have been kept very busy by Jojo. Most excitingly, I finally got to take a bath 🙂
Earlier today I went along with my new american friend to provide moral support, while she argued her case with an arsy hairdresser who refused to claim responsibility for frying her hair during a straightening procedure. In normal life (i.e., outside of Israel), if you walk into a busy hairdresser, show them that your hair is BURNT and demand your money back and create A Scene, they would be very quick to refund your money and send you on your way. True, nobody makes aliyah for the customer service. But you would think they would be concerned about looking bad in front of customers.
Apparently not.
We explained to the 3 gay hairdressers working there that my friends hair was falling out, that we had been finding bits of it all over the flat, and they should refund her money. Their response? “What do you want us to do about it? Anyway, nobody in Israel refunds your money”
What a load of B*lox. We weren’t having that.
We go to the big boss who simply tells us “he will “restore it”. Er, no she says. She is too polite at first to say she doesn’t trust him so she tells a white lie that she may be pregnant, and doesn’t want anymore chemicals.
Enter the Bosses Scary Wife. (Petite, Long Perfect Hair with HighLights, arse so tight you could crack a nut in it). What does she say?
“Ok, so come back after you have had the baby and we will fix it.” (!!!!)
For goodness sake. At this point, I lose my rag. Having been using my scariest face (probably not so scary but then again they may have been frightened to upset me, in case I gave birth on their trendy black polished floor). I told her once again that my friend has been having this done for SIX YEARS, has NEVER had such a problem and they need to refund AT LEAST half her money back AND fix it. Preferably with their most expensive hair mask. (I had been eyeing up some products on the shelf). And why ON EARTH should she trust them to restore it after they did such a hideous job the first time???
They must have realised we meant business because they handed over 300 shekel and some potion in a posh pot. I told the woman it was the least they can do, when she got shirty with me, told me I had obviously never had Japanese straightening (is my frizz that bad???), and I was not a hairdresser and I shouldn’t tell her how to do her job. Whatever. I know if someone’s hair is falling out, there’s a problem.
Anyway, we are happily trying out the posh hair mask tonight. Ha. And we have our money. Can you tell my dad’s an arab?