Ritz

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the streetlights dimmed and the city slept, a soft humming sound would occasionally drift from the Ritz Hair Salon. A delivery driver noticed it first, thinking perhaps an old refrigerator had been left running. But no one else seemed to hear anything. Finally, someone mentioned hearing the noise too—a neighbor who often stopped by for a trim. It turned out that the Ritz was just playing soothing music late into the night to relax its customers. The delivery driver chuckled, realizing he’d almost called maintenance over nothing more than a gentle melody.

2. In the early morning hours, before the first customers arrived, a mysterious voice would come over the intercom at Ritz Hairdressing Salon. ‘Your hair is calling you,’ it whispered, always in the same calm yet insistent tone. One day, an elderly neighbor walked in, complaining about his new gray streaks. The voice said, 'Your hair missed its youthful color.' Soon enough, he had dyed himself entirely silver—and everyone agreed he looked like a modern-day Santa Claus. The next morning, the intercom announced cheerfully, 'Your beard is calling you!'

3. In the quiet afternoon, when the sun filtered through the old windows of the Ritz salon, a small dog would appear outside the door. Every day, without fail, it would sit there, staring intently at the mirror where stylists worked their magic. No one knew why it came or what it hoped to see. One day, an enthusiastic delivery driver noticed the dog and decided to bring him a treat. The little pooch licked his lips in appreciation but kept his gaze fixed on the reflection. That evening, as the stylist was finishing up her shift, she saw the dog had left behind a tiny note: 'Thank you for making me look so good!' Everyone laughed, realizing that maybe the dog wasn’t waiting for himself—maybe he just loved watching others get pretty.

4. In the late afternoon, when the streets of New York were starting to buzz with traffic, a faint scent of fresh-baked bread wafted from the Ritz salon. No one could explain where it came from—there was no bakery nearby, just rows of office buildings. The aroma grew stronger every day, drawing curious passersby closer until finally, someone dared enter the salon. Inside, they found nothing but an old lady humming softly as she styled hair. When asked about the smell, she smiled and said, 'Oh, that’s my secret recipe for happiness.' And ever since then, people would come not only for a haircut but also for a slice of her legendary joy.