Martinizing Dry Cleaning

Two stars, even though they’re under new management. Actually, two stars BECAUSE they’re under new management. Were they not, they’d have received the dreaded one star bitch slap and a hate-​filled review full of gypsy curses and the like.
About two weekends ago I did some spring cleaning. Every year around the time the snow stops swirling I wash all my sweaters and coats one last time before packing them away for the summer. I do as many myself as I can and send the rest to the cleaners. For good measure, my fiancé tossed in a few of his things as well and on Monday morning, he dropped off our stuff at the cleaners.
A few days later, he stopped by after work to pick up our clothes and when they brought it out, he noticed his khaki-​colored corduroys on the top of the heap were looking a bit odd. He lifted up the blue plastic bag and lo and behold, they were no longer khaki-​colored cords; they were a brilliant shade of leprechaun green. Not so awesome.
Of course he immediately informed the employee that he was NOT going to pay for them. The response he received was, «ok, well are you sure they weren’t this color before you brought them in?»
He was like, «do I look like the kind of person who would wear bright green pants?!?» (And for the record, he’s not the type to make any type of bold fashion statement at all. One look at him and it’s very obvious that he’s a very conservative dresser who likes neutral-​colored pants with traditional-​colored button-​up shirts). The employee then informed him that he would need to speak to the manager during business hours the following day.
The next day rolls around. He tells them we want our clothes back and our bill to go away. The manager tells him that might be an option but that the pants will need to be «sent out for analysis.» OK. Fine. Whatever.
The day after that, an entirely new person called and introduced themselves as the «new management» indicating that as of this morning things were changing dramatically at this location. My fiancé went to the storefront to pick up our items (minus the pants, he told them to keep those puppies) and walked out with no bill and some coupons for future use.
I guess the moral of the story is that even though it was resolved in our favor and even though we have some coupons, I’m nervous to leave my clothes with them. Clothes aren’t cheap and I’m not independently wealthy so if the cleaner destroys them, I still have to go out to replace what was ruined.
And after all that? As I was putting my stuff away, I noticed that one of the buttons on my pea-​coat had been ripped off during the cleaning process. They’d reattached it with a safety pin but this means that before I can wear it again I have to sew it back on. I hate sewing buttons.