BCRN Aesthetics

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the early morning fog of a typical autumn day in Portland, Oregon, an anonymous delivery driver pulled up to BCRN Aesthetics with a package marked ‘urgent.’ As he approached the door, he noticed that the receptionist’s chair faced away from the entrance, towards a large mirror on the wall. Curious, he walked over and saw himself reflected in the mirror—wearing a lab coat and holding a clipboard. Startled, he knocked over a vial of glittery liquid, which splashed onto his shirt, turning it neon pink. The receptionist finally turned around, smiled warmly, and said, 'Morning, Dr. Rainbow!'

2. In the dimly lit hallway of BCRN Aesthetics one night, a delivery driver asked aloud: ‘Why does everyone here seem so… calm?’ ‘Maybe,’ said an old janitor passing by, ‘they’re just waiting for their turn in the relaxation chamber.’ The delivery driver raised an eyebrow and asked, ‘What’s that?’ With a twinkle in his eye, the janitor replied, “It’s where they store all the free samples.” The story ended with both laughing as they heard someone inside whispering, “Next patient please—we’re out of strawberry essence again!”

3. In the quiet streets of Boston’s Beacon Hill neighborhood, a curious resident noticed something peculiar outside BCRN Aesthetics. Every evening around sunset, a shadowy figure would emerge from the clinic’s rear entrance and disappear into thin air before anyone could catch a glimpse. One night, a delivery driver waiting for his package saw the same shadowy figure and decided to follow it. The figure led him through an alleyway, up a fire escape, and finally into a dimly lit bar where everyone was wearing surgical masks—turning out to be just another happy hour at the local pub. Back at BCRN Aesthetics, nobody ever mentioned anything unusual again.

4. In the late afternoon shadows of New York City, a delivery driver approached BCRN Aesthetics with a box under his arm. As he unlocked the door, he heard a soft humming from inside—was it coming from the waiting room or the treatment rooms? As he opened the door wider, he saw an old man in a robe, slowly massaging his feet on a table. ‘Another day, another foot massage,’ the man muttered. The delivery driver smiled and walked away, wondering if BCRN Aesthetics offered any packages for sore muscles.’