What Seemed Like the World's Longest Hair Appointment....

I purchased my first Groupon a few weeks ago. I paid $15 for a $30 offf coupon at a local hair salon. I made an appointment for Sunday afternoon. I thought it would be nice to sit back and enjoy some hair TLC after my long training walk. Hair cut and hi-light, here I come.
As I walked in the door, I did a quick eye scan of the staff. My eyes went right to a gal that appeared to be about 58 or so with 80's permed hair who was trying to look and act about 25. Please not her. Please.
I check in at about 1:45 for my 2:00 and said lady comes running up, "Oh, you must be Leah." Damn.
I tell her what I what done. All one color underneath, a touch up on the hi-lights and low-lights and a trim to freshen up the edges. Not all that complicated right?
Right away she asks one of the other stylists to come over to get an opinion. I can appreciate that as she's doing a double check. Out she comes with 2 bowls of color and a handful of magazines.
Here's where I should mention that I prefer not to talk while getting my hair done. I talk all day long and here is where I like a little peace and quiet. She can tell I'm reading, but she keeps asking me questions. I answer in short responses and continue on catching up on the latest from The Jersey Shore.
As she is coloring my hair, she is making comments like, "Oh, this is my favorite thing to do. I love to do color. You have so much hair. Your hair is so healthy. My manager at the other location talked me into going to beauty school." On and on.
So she finishes up with the color and foils and conveniently forgets to move the hair out of my face until I do it myself and then she says, "Oh, yeah, I bet you can't even see can you?"
I'm sitting there for about 20 minutes or so. She's checking the progress every now and again and then the other stylist comes walking over. My stylist kept saying, "she's processing well." No comment from the other gal. I think to myself, oh crap - this isn't good.
Next thing I know, the other stylist comes out with a bowl of something and starts applying it to different sections of my hair. Again, my stylist feels the need to comment about how well it's processing. Still no comment from the other gal.
Time to go back to wash out the color. As I'm getting to my seat the other stylist comes out with yet another bowl of something. They rinse out the color and apply this horrible smelling stuff that later I find out is toner because I'm pretty sure I had a nice shade of ORANGE in my hair.
My stylist went to go help a customer and when she was out of ear shot the other gal (who was working out the toner) says to me, "Sorry, she's still a little new." Awesome.
To make my long story even longer.....
The cut goes fine. Doesn't take very long and so far I can't see anything wrong with it. Blow dryer comes out. She's got that sucker on at about 425 degrees and it's hot. Really hot. She seemed to forget how to move the stupid thing around until I had to start moving my head before my scalp started on fire. At this point I was done. I wanted to get out of the chair, pay and get myself home.
But, no.
She insisted on straightening it about 1/2 an inch at a time. She started this process at about 4:00. At 4:25 she was still not done and made the comment, "I should have you out of here by 5:00. Are you okay, you look uncomfortable." "Just getting a little antsy" was my response.
Finally the last strand of hair is straightened. "Do you like a little volume?" "Sometimes." My God. When she spun me around, I looked like Snookie!
At that point I just didn't care about being nice. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair to tone that bad boy down. I jumped off the chair and cruised up the cash register, paid, said thanks and hit the road.
In the end, my hair is fine. I don't love it, but I don't hate it. Don't think I'll be making any plans to go back anytime soon.