Me: Can you please fix my kid's hair...yeah, it's pretty bad...no, I'd rather the same guy didn't 'fix' it, thaaanks....um, like I said, it's pretty bad, like, I think I would have done a better job if I had, say, five shots of tequila and didn't bother to turn the bathroom lights on.

Co-owner (calls back later): Your husband stepped outside of the salon during the haircut. (Keeps repeating the same thing while interrupting me.)

Me: Are you saying that my husband abandoned his child, while standing directly outside of the salon (he had a business call), and THAT'S why the hairdresser totally butchered him? Does one need to be hovering over a client (which was $30 with the tip) or give a ten minute f'ing Pinterest consult in order for something remotely even and resembling a normal haircut to happen?

PLEASE SEE MY EIGHT-YEAR-OLD'S HAIRCUT (I have a nifty collage for your perusal)

This is a clear case of I'm right and you are an incompetent twat with no manners or talent to speak of.