My regular hairdresser left the salon and opened her own salon in her home. I made an appointment with her there. She had repurposed her garage to do it, had nice stations set up, and the place looked great. I was her only customer that day. She started coloring my hair, set the timer, and left the salon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her carrying a laundry basket back and forth in the living room. She was doing housework until the timer for my hair went off. While she was doing that, her toddler wandered into the salon wearing a smelly diaper, sat down at my feet and started playing with my shoes, snot dripping out of his cute little nose onto my shoes. Every time I'd pull my shoes away, the kid would start screaming. The diaper was rank, and I was gagging, looking around desperately for the mother to come get the kid, but no, she was busy making lunch or something. When the timer finally went off, she came back in, looked at me suspiciously for being so near her screaming child, then quickly finished my hair. I paid her as quickly as I could and ran outside gasping to breathe nonpoopy air. I never went back. When I go to a salon, I want to be pampered a little bit, not babysit somebody's child.