Vamps Beauty Salon

I was killing time, walking around downtown with my kids. We came across this place, so we cruised in. We we’re greeted as soon as we walked in (first impression was; nice looking, good size place, awkward layout, THEY DO MASSAGE, and they we’re friendly employees that we’re smiling… Big plus) and got my sons hair cut by Jessica. She’s definitely cut kids’ hair before. She had my 15 month old son up on the kiddie booster seat and began to cut his hair and he started to freak out and she handled it like a pro, he calmed down and let her do her thing… This was a nice place, a chill enviroment to where even a Father who was out cruising around with the kids without Momma could bring his kids to get their haircut. .. I’d stop in again for a haircut. 638 5^th St. Its almost at the corner of 5^th and D St

I did not see «hairstylist/​co-​owner Bunthy Hou» and am now reluctantly suspicious that Ms. Hou has a couple of her friends trolling as previous customers. I say I am reluctantly suspicious because it may just be that the woman I saw was sub-​par, and I am hesitant to bag on a stylist whom I did not see. (As you already know, gently but brilliant reader, a salon is just a building. It takes a stylist to actually do hair.)
Okay, let me nutshell my experience.
Stylist took me on a last-​minute appointment, which I thought was really nice of her. Stylist was not familiar with the shampoo she used on me (saying, «well, lets give this one a try» as she reached into the cabinet over my head). No towel under my neck, so while she fumbled for her mystery product. I sat with my neck painfully crammed against cold, hard porcelain. We walk back to her station, which has no personal effects on it at all, save for her license (which I should have looked at more closely, in retrospect).
Stylist has no blow dryer, curling iron, straightening iron, etc. Additionally, she has no product of any kind. None. She takes her scissors and, hair by hair, starts trimming around my face. («I’m just doing some sketching,» she tells me.)
After trimming my hair for 30 minutes or so, she asks me if I want her to style it, which, of course, I do. I ask for her to do it straight. She asks me how I normally do that, and I responded that I use a straightening iron. I don’t mention that most stylists do it with a blow dryer and a round brush, since I naively assume that she is already privy to this info. Clearly, she is not.
Stylist awkwardly pulls my hair back into two big sections, and sits me under the big, old-​lady dryer (???). While I sit (no offer of a magazine, coffee or anything) she walks back and forth from her station to another, plugging and unplugging various irons. After what feels like forever, she sits me back down and starts trying to straighten my still-​damp hair with a small flat-​iron. I mention that, in my experience, wet hair will not straighten like that, and she goes for the blow dryer. Although the stylist appeared to be experienced (read: «not fresh out of any type of school») she struggles to operate the (borrowed) hair dryer.
At this point, I am thinking of fleeing on foot.
I could go on with the painful play-​by-​play, but you get the picture. In the end my hair got a good trim, but I set out for an actual cut and cute style. I will not be back.