I'd swear the minute they saw the out of state plates and figured out you were an oilfield worker, they got the barber school dropout from the back where they kept them drooling over a bucket and turned them loose, knowing full well you'd never be back, and then charged full price.
After one of the worst drew blood twice in one haicut, I'd had enough.
For the price of a couple of glorified rubber bands, I have avoided hair in my eyes and saved a mint over the years, too.