House of Hair

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the dimly lit hallway outside House of Hair, a delivery driver was struggling with his heavy box when he heard an unexpected voice from behind. "Excuse me, young man," said a soft but firm tone. The driver turned around and found himself face-to-face with a tiny old lady wearing a headband and holding a pair of scissors. ‘Would you like some help?’ she asked sweetly, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles. The startled driver nodded dumbly as she gently took over, whispering, ‘Just hold still now, my dear.’ In moments, the box was neatly secured, and with a final smile, she vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a whiff of lavender perfume.

2. Late one night, while a delivery driver was unloading boxes in front of House of Hair, he heard an odd humming sound coming from inside the salon. Curious but cautious, he peered through the window and saw nothing unusual—just a stylist cutting hair as usual. Yet every few minutes, the hum grew louder, almost like someone singing softly under their breath. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the delivery guy noticed that the humming matched the rhythm of the radio playing inside—a neighbor had accidentally left it on during their own haircut. The next morning, everyone laughed when they realized how seriously the delivery driver took his job.

3. In the House of Hair salon, an unusual announcement echoed through the mirrors and chairs one morning: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your stylist is now styling the air.’ The whole place fell silent for a moment, then someone whispered, 'Is that even possible?' A delivery driver piped up, 'I saw him do it once—with my hair!' Everyone laughed, and soon enough, everyone forgot to care who was styling what. The only thing anyone noticed was how good their haircuts looked that day.

4. In the House of Hair salon, an unusual announcement echoed through the mirrors and speakers: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please be advised that our stylist’s cat has escaped into the blow-dry room.’ Customers froze mid-blowout as the little furball scurried past the dryer, its tail waving like a tiny flag. The stylist chased after it, calling in a panic, while everyone else watched, amused and slightly bemused. Finally, the cat found refuge on top of the styling station, where it sat proudly, surveying its kingdom—until someone accidentally knocked over a bottle of hairspray.