The keep it to yourself files (AM)

This is a true account of an uncomfortable conversation I had at the beauty parlour the other day, reminiscent of the time my former barista took our morning coffee conversation in an direction that was more related to tea than coffee if you catch my drift.  While it's possible that the last time this happened I was a tad complicit, this time I think I am a total innocent and I'm here it prove it. Want to know more? Well don't just sit there crabby friends, read on readers!

The action takes place in a popular beauty therapy franchise we'll call Vermillion Flutterpie . The lights are fluorescent. The soundtrack is mid-1990s RnB. Think "Waterfalls" by TLC. The ladies who work there are all very sweet girls, some of whom may or may not wear a lot of fake tan and who may or may not get highlights in their hair. If they do get highlights in their hair, they may or may not get them touched up frequently enough to avoid looking rough. 

The particular beauty therapist working on me had a slight hippy bent. Not long after I lay down on the bed, while she was preparing the hot wax, she asked me how my day had been so far. Totally normal for a beauty therapist. I said something or another in response and then she said: 

"It was a full moon last night. Maybe that's why my boyfriend was so aggro."

I have to say I was a little concerned by the direction she was taking the conversation, what with me only having met her once before,  and the preceding conversation having no logical lead in to discussion of moons or boyfs. But I figured because she is a bit of a hippy, it would progress to a conversation about crystals and star signs and I was prepared to go along with it. She was pouring hot wax on my body, after all. I tend to let them talk about whatever they want to talk about when they're holding the wax pot.  

"Oh yes?" I said, trying to sound interested, but not too interested. 
"Yeah" she replied, then went on and on about how her boyfriend had been boozing a little, and this had led to a fight, but he apologised as soon as they woke up this morning. 
"Well that's nice" I said. "It's nice he apologised. He knows he was in the wrong and he admitted it".

She agreed, then told me that it's been tough for him lately because he is unemployed. 

I nodded sympathetically. We've all had unemployed boyfriends before, after all. I was getting ready to  offer some words of comfort when she continued. "He's got  long history of smoking…." at this point she hesitated, so I offered my most sympathetic nod to encourage her. Sure,  I may look like a massive square, but I'm on the level. I know people like to smoke the ganga. I know people like to spark up a doobie. I know the sweet Mary Jane can ease people's pain. I've seen some things in my time*+. So I put a look on my face and gave a tilt to my head that said "go ahead friend, tell me your boyfriend is a massive pot head… you're in a safe place". 
 
I guess it worked, because she went on to finish her sentence with the words "crystal" and "meth". So when you put it all together, she said "He's got a long history of smoking crystal meth".
Um. I know I was the one nodding encouragingly, but since when did hippy beauty therapists start talking about crystal meth instead of actual crystals?? And since when did they think it's OK to talk about that with a person they have only met once before. And not, like, met in real life, just the beauty parlour. Ones that look like massive squares?! Since when did this become an OK thing? I don't think it's an OK thing you guys. Talking about your boyfriend's meth habit with a total stranger and a client at your place of employment. Honestly. Keep it to yourself, am I right? 

And shit you guys, I watch Breaking Bad. Don't smoke meth for pete's sake! It's the worst!

*Do I even need to say this?

+I've seen no things