No, you cannot tell me how to do my job

With the thermometer hitting 65 degrees and my toes not seeing the light of day for 5 months, it was high time for a pedicure.  My roommate and I were sitting at the nail dryers when we spotted this woman whip out her iPad across the salon.  She proceeded to play a video for the nail technician on how to give a pedicure... while she was getting a pedicure.  After more careful eavesdropping we deduced that the woman was actually pitching some newfangled machine that performs pedicures for you.  She then asked if the technicians thought the salon owner would be interested in learning more about her product- you know, the one that could replace their jobs.  This woman couldn't sell a T-bone steak to a pack of hungry dogs, forget about pedicure robots.  Someone should take her iPad away.

No, you cannot only provide terrible options

I'm not above Hair Cuttery.  The stylists are licensed professionals who had to practice on the same types of locks as a high-end salon owner in order to get near my head.  Some places, though, cannot rest on these laurels as it is questionable where said licenses were earned or who is providing the overall creative direction.  Take for instance a barber shop I passed recently which boasted a few of their top sellers on a sign out on the sidewalk.  Let's take a minute to analyze each option, shall we?  The two on the top, though awful, are at least dismissible as a momentary lapse in judgment.  The bottom two are just beyond; the captions should read "If you want to look like a rapist, early 90's C-list white rapper, or generally like to spend time alone, PICK ME!"  There is no way any sane person would look in the mirror after their mane was completely massacred into this shape and convince themselves that things are looking up.  At least I know which stylists to blame when I see a mess of this caliber roaming the city- here's looking at you Barber Shop on MacDougal and West 8th Street.