Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Guilty Pleasure: 'Tabatha Takes Over'

Today, I’m starting a new section of this blog devoted to ridiculous things that make me sinfully happy (although honestly, I should never publicly admit to some of these things unless strapped to a polygraph machine.) I’m calling these posts my Guilty Pleasures, and Tabatha Coffey wins the very first award for her show on Bravo, ‘Tabatha Takes Over.’

Ready, aim ... fire your ass.

Quick background on Tabatha: This sass-mouthed Aussie came to the attention of American audiences in ‘Shear Genius’, that lack-luster ‘Project Runway’ spinoff for hairdressers. Side note: If I wanted to watch people cut hair poorly, I’d just walk down to my neighborhood Super Cuts and pay $8 for the experience.

But wait! Isn’t this exactly what Tabatha does on this show? Okay, yes, there are an inordinate amount of episodes that center around Tabatha fixing up boughetto hair salons this season. But considering she got her start on the salon floor, it makes sense that Bravo keeps her somewhat in her natural element. (Although if I was on the receiving end of one of her perms-gone-wrong tongue-lashings, the easy accessibility to sharp scissors would make me more than a wee bit nervous.)

Tabatha is my personal hero because she does what I’ve always wanted to do…tell shitty customer service reps how bad they are at their jobs. I’ve worked in customer service my entire life, and it always drives me bat shit insane when people work in a job where they must come face-to-face with real live humans all day long, yet have zero idea how to treat them. Perfect example: think of the last time you spent an afternoon at the DMV.

Some regular escapades on the show include these memorable moments:

In a recent episode, a low-IQ salon assistant spends an entire shift gaping open-mouthed at customers like they are sea creatures who sprouted legs and walked in asking for a blowout.

"Tammy, your client is here."

At an ill-fated yogurt shop, Tabatha’s hidden cameras catch a kid digging around in her nose, then digging through the toppings bar.

Do we have to pay extra for those?

And the cherry on top? When one of these moronic small business owners actually admits — on camera — that she is $489,000 in debt. FOUR HUNDRED EIGHTY NINE THOUSAND AMERICAN DOLLARS. I'm not a math whiz, but it seems the time to cut and run from that business was about ... four hundred thousand dollars ago.

Some favorite quotes from the series so far:

  • "The shampoo area looks like something from a prison camp." 
  • "Who's going to come? The fairy who will bring you everything you need?" 
  • "You're working on your client while you're calling your assistant and daughter retards." 
  • "Don’t call me sweetheart. I am not your sweetheart, I am not your honey, I am not your boo. Call me Tabatha, thank you very much."

I am not sure what I did with my early evenings before I discovered this virtual bitch slap of ineffectual "businesspeople." I mean, I can only take so many episodes of ‘Real Housewives of [insert city no one wants to live in here]’ before I want to go chug a bottle of Dom/slash a limousine’s tires/murder a Pomeranian with alopecia.

VERDICT: Let this straight-shooting Amazon deliver a one-two punch of blunt to your DVR.