About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One morning, as customers were settling in for their weekly cuts, Mahbod announced over the intercom: 'Attention, everyone—your hair today will be styled according to your favorite decade!' Since then, every client has walked out feeling like they stepped into a time machine. A delivery driver arrived as a grungy nineties kid, complete with flannel and scruffy beard, causing his boss to tease him mercilessly. Meanwhile, an elderly lady emerged from the salon looking like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, leaving her neighbors gaping in awe. By lunchtime, Mahbod had transformed himself into Elvis Presley, much to the amusement of everyone who walked past the open door.
2. While waiting for his trim one day, a regular noticed something peculiar: every Wednesday afternoon, right on schedule, an old van would pull up outside and its driver would dash into the salon with a mysterious box. Curious, our regular followed the van around the block and found it parked in front of a nearby café. The delivery driver emerged, wearing a huge grin, carrying two takeaway cups. Turned out, every week Mahbod ordered the same coffee blend from the same barista, who always teased him about being too busy for lunch breaks.
3. In the early hours of an unusually quiet Sunday morning, when most salons were closed, a delivery driver pulled up outside Mahbod Style. The street was deserted except for a lone figure—Mahbod himself, standing in front of the salon door with a worried expression. ‘What’s wrong?’ asked the delivery driver, peering curiously through the foggy windshield. Mahbod shook his head, pointing inside. A neighbor casually walked out, scratching his beard and muttering something about ‘another one bites the dust.’ Inside, amidst the chaos, a regular customer triumphantly held up a newly styled wig, yelling, ‘Mahbod, you’re a genius!’
4. In the early hours of an unusual Monday dawn, when most hair salons were still dreaming, Mahbod Style’s neon sign blinked on. A delivery driver passing by slowed down, curious about such early activity. Curious, he knocked on the door. Out stepped a sleepy-haired man in a towel, rubbing his eyes and mumbling something about ‘just another Monday morning.’ Turned out it was just Mahbod, the owner, who’d been up since dawn perfecting his new technique—balayage for penguins. The delivery driver left with a strange smile and a promise never to mention it again.