I regularly go to a hair salon to get my extensions done. The staff is super friendly and is always doing a great job. They have a five-star Google rating and have been regularly awarded as “top salon” in a city of 3.6 million; you get the idea. They objectively provide great service.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at the salon again getting my extensions fixed. My hairdresser (a super lovely woman) told me:

Hairdresser: “I’m in a bit of a bad mood. A customer didn’t show up for her appointment earlier today without cancelling. Doing extensions can take quite some time, and that’s a lot of money lost for the salon. The customer is a bit difficult at times.”

I understood how much of an understatement that was when the customer actually showed up, apparently four hours late.

Customer: “I’m here. I want to be served.”

Owner: “We don’t really have the capacity to do your hair, since the slots for the rest of the day are booked.”

Customer: *Aggressively rambling.* “That’s bad customer service. You should show some flexibility.”

I was just sitting in my chair, rolling my eyes so hard that they nearly fell out of my head. After five minutes of discussion, the owner of the salon agreed to do her hair himself. She seemed to be satisfied with the VIP treatment.

She sat down in the chair next to me and proceeded to start b****ing about how the last time they did her hair wrong, how the quality of the hair was s***, the color was off (it wasn’t), aaaaaaand so on. She went on and on and on for a full hour. It was exhausting to say the least.

The salon owner just kept smiling and doing the work while taking the verbal abuse. I was just thinking: WHY? Why do you let her treat you this way?

After a while, the customer decided that she needed to take a smoke break and went outside for a bit. I’ve known the salon owner for three years by now, so I ask:

Me: *To the owner.* “Dude, why the h*** do you not throw her out?”

He just keeps grinning at me and says:

Owner: “Oh, it’s fine. I regularly charge her twice the actual rate for the hair and service. I call it the “B**** tax”.”

We had a good laugh, and I was just happy that she suffered consequences for her behavior without even realizing it. That was very satisfying.

I started getting my nails done during a period where I wanted to try it and found someone with really good reviews. Since the best time to do them for me was when she opened, I made sure to get there before she opened so she wouldn’t need to wait, and she let me in to wait inside since she was there in good time as well. This was my second time there, and I saw a young girl. 

I knew she had a trainee, and at first thought it had to be her, but then started to consider it might be a family member since she was just sitting there, scrolling on her phone. In typical Swedish style, I did not talk much during the procedure, so I did not ask either. Forty-five minutes later, another customer walks in, apologising for being late, as she couldn’t find parking. Turns out it was the trainee, and her customer just hadn’t arrived. 

I overhear as she shows the trainee some pictures, to say what she wanted. There is also a language barrier since neither the customer nor those working there has Swedish as their first language, yet they share no other language either, it seems.

Customer: “I want to have it like this, see, like in the picture.”

Trainee: “Oh, I don’t…” *Looks to the owner.*

The owner takes a small break from my nails and looks at the picture.

Owner: “It will not be exactly as the picture.”

Customer: “Oh, I know, but something like that? I saw a tutorial on it, and you just mix some glitter into it.”

Owner: “We cannot make it exactly like the picture. Do you want glitter?”

Customer: “Yes.”

They show her colors, and she chooses a very glittery one, while the owner gives the trainee some instructions on their native language.

At ten, she moves on from my hands to my feet, and the trainee finishes her very short work on the customer soon after that as her next customer was waiting.

Customer: “What is this? This is not what I asked for. This is ugly.”

Owner: “You got a manicure with nail polish.”

Customer: “Yes, but I wanted it like the picture. See?” *Shows the picture again.*

Owner: “You were late, she has a new customer, and we said you cannot get it exactly like in the picture.”

Customer: “Well, I am not paying for this, you ruined them! These are short; I wanted you to make them longer.”

Now I want to add that going to the trainee is cheaper, combined with her having fifteen minutes instead of sixty minutes, and them saying they couldn’t have it like the picture, I’m not sure what the customer expected. This is also going on while the trainee is attending to other customers, so the owner has to leave me regularly to handle her.

Customer: “I want to call the lady I booked with. When I called and booked, they said you could do this.”

Eventually, they call someone who helped her book this appointment, and the customer tells her side of the story.

Customer: “Yes, I came here, but they didn’t do at all what I asked them. I can send you a picture, my nails are ugly! They are short, and there is too much glitter. I don’t think I should have to pay for this.”

The customer then smugly hands the phone to the owner.

Customer: “They will tell you I should not have to pay.

Owner: “She was forty-five minutes late to a one-hour appointment. We said we couldn’t do what she wanted, but we did what we could.”

She hands the phone back to the customer.

Customer: “What? She said I was late? Well, they should tell me if they can’t do what I want! I just had a hard time finding parking; it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. I don’t care, I am not paying, they should have told me they didn’t have time, then I could have cancelled.”

She hands the phone back to the owner.

Owner: “We have a 24-hour cancellation policy. If you cancel later, you pay full price. But I can give her a rebate.”

The phone is handed back to the customer.

Customer: “But they ruined my nails! They are ugly! And it wasn’t relaxing at all; it was all rushed. Alright, I’ll pay a hundred (about $11).”

The owner pauses my treatment again to go and get paid.

Customer: “I am never coming back here.”

That makes the owner smile.

While I can see the customer’s point in that they should have been clearer in their communication, there was a language barrier, and she was very late. But most of all, I am so glad I was not the one at the other end of that call!

I’m getting my nails done, and the salon is packed. It’s on the ground level of our office building, so a few people from the building use it. There’s a thirty-minute wait, and all appointment slots are booked. 

A woman walks in and asks for a pedicure.

Desk Guy: “It’ll be about twenty minutes. We can let your feet soak, and you can use the chair massage while you wait.”

Customer: “Fine.”

She sits down. Less than seven minutes later, she suddenly starts screaming at the nail techs.

Customer: “Don’t you people speak English?! I said I’m in a hurry! My time is valuable! I make so much an hour, and you’re wasting my time and costing me money!”

I’m on a work call and have to mute my mic because she’s so loud.

She throws her shoes on and storms toward the door.

I recognize her; she works in my industry, so as she’s walking out, I say loudly:

Me: “Oh, she doesn’t make that much an hour. In fact, she’s one of the worst in our industry. I can’t wait to tell the very international company we work for that she doesn’t want to work with people who don’t speak English.”

She whips around to see who said it. Her face drops when she sees me.

Customer: “I… uh… I’m just having a hectic day.”

She leaves. I’ve never had to deal with her directly, but whenever we’ve been in the same meeting, it’s great to see her recognize me as the person who had to remind her to be a polite human.

I’m the assistant salon manager for a large beauty company, and my boss is the district trainer. She’s the one who fixes the worst hair disasters from other locations. Enter the customer in full bottle-blonde fury.

Customer: *Storming in.* “I need this fixed. Right now!”

Me: “Okay… did you have your service at one of our other locations?”

Customer: “Yes. They ruined it. I didn’t pay them, obviously.”

Red flag number one. My boss steps in from the back. 

Boss: “Hi, I’m [Boss’s Name], district trainer. I understand you’re unhappy with your service.”

Customer: “Unhappy?! They should be arrested for this mess! And then I had the MANAGER fix it, but it’s still awful! So now you’re going to do it!”

Boss: “I see… and did you pay for either of those services?”

Customer: “Of course not! Why would I pay for a disaster?” 

Boss: “Ma’am, in the state of Minnesota, refusing to pay for a service you received is theft of service. This will be your third visit without payment. If you want me to do your hair, you’ll need to pay for the service before we begin. Otherwise, we will need to call the police.”

Customer: *Gasping.* “Are you threatening me?!”

Boss: “I’m telling you the law, ma’am. Now, I can work on your hair until you’re happy, and we’ll consider it plus your other two sessions as just one appointment, but you will be paying upfront.”

Customer: “Well, you can forget it! I’m not paying a dime until I see if I like it!” 

Boss: “Then I’m afraid we won’t be able to help you today.” 

Her face goes red. She grabs her coffee, takes one last look at my boss’s chair, and then dumps the entire thing onto it.

Customer: “There! Now you’ll remember me!”

Me: “Oh, believe me, we will.”

She storms out. I start grabbing paper towels. 

Boss: “Good news: this one’s easier to clean up than her hair.”

A couple of days ago, I was getting my nails done at a local salon. The women who work there are amazing, just three of them, so they time-manage as best they can. Most people just walk in, and most people know that if you do, you’ll probably have to wait. They’ll usually say something like, “Come back in [amount of time] and we’ll be ready for you.”

I had an appointment and still ended up waiting a little. No big deal, they were slammed.

While I was waiting, three people came in and got their names written down as next in line, along with two girls already waiting beside me. That’s five people behind me. 

I finally sit down to get my nails done. It’s just a simple manicure with no polish. One tech is busy doing pedicures for a couple, and another is just starting a full set. 

And then, a teenage girl walks in with her parents. She immediately sits herself down at a table without saying a word. Her parents go straight to the woman doing my nails and say, and I quote:

Parent: “Her flight leaves in five hours, and we have to leave in one hour to make it on time. Her nail just broke. Fix it.”

Rude. So, so rude. Not to mention: five people are ahead of her.

The nail tech tries to explain that, but the parents just talk over her. The techs briefly talk among themselves in their own language, then the woman doing my nails nods and says:

Nail Tech: “Okay. When I’m done with her, I’ll fix it.”

Cool, cool. So then I smiled and said:

Me: “Actually, can I get a dip manicure with nail art? Oh, and the deluxe spa package too?”

Suddenly, that hour flew by. The parents were fuming. The teenager was pouting. And by the time the hour was up, they’d all walked out, her nail still broken.

My nails? Flawless. 

I tipped extra.