Catalina's Dominican Beauty Salon

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One day, while getting her hair done at Catalina’s, a little girl kept pointing and whispering, ‘Mama, look at that lady with sparkles on her head!’ The stylist glanced up curiously, only to see an elderly woman dancing in front of the mirror, completely oblivious to everyone around her. The stylist smiled and discreetly motioned for another customer to cover the old lady’s reflection with a magazine. Meanwhile, Catalina calmly continued working on the little girl’s hair, whispering softly, 'Don’t worry, honey—she’ll be gone soon.' And indeed she was, after a few minutes of gracefully twirling away into the crowd.

2. At dawn, when most salons were closed, an early riser noticed a mysterious van pulling up outside Catalina's. The driver, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and dark glasses, quickly entered the salon and emerged moments later with a strange smile. As the sun rose higher, so did curiosity levels among the neighbors. Turned out, it was just a delivery driver who’d accidentally taken the wrong address for his weekly shipment of hair dye. Catalina welcomed him warmly, offering coffee and a friendly chat before he left—with a big box marked ‘Catalina’s Dominican Beauty Salon.’ Moral of the story? Even in the quietest neighborhoods, you never know what might happen at dawn.

3. At lunchtime, when the salon was buzzing with chatter and laughter, a delivery driver parked his truck outside. As he walked towards the entrance, he heard a soft voice whispering from inside: ‘Don’t forget your umbrella.’ The delivery driver paused, looked around suspiciously, but saw no one. Shrugging it off as his imagination, he entered the salon. Only then did he notice an elderly lady in the corner, smiling sweetly and holding an umbrella. ‘Oh,’ she said softly, ‘I thought you might need this.’

4. In the quiet hours before sunrise, when only the stars lit up Catalina Street, a delivery driver pulled up outside Catalina’s Dominican Beauty Salon. The neon sign flickered on, but no one answered the door. Curious, he peered inside through the window—only to see rows of chairs swaying gently in unison. Inside, the chairs were softly rocking to an invisible beat, as if they were dancing to some tropical salsa tune. Confused and amused, the driver knocked gently on the door, which swung open with a creak. A sleepy voice from within said, ‘Finally, someone here for their morning mani-pedi!’