Bullfeathers Barbershop Midtown

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, while a regular was getting his usual trim, his little boy ran into the shop, pointing excitedly at something outside. ‘Daddy,’ he whispered, ‘the barber’s chair moves!’ The barber glanced outside and saw nothing but an empty street. He looked back at the kid with a smile and said, 'Son, that’s just the old chair talking. It loves you!' The regular laughed, shook his head, and paid for his haircut.

2. In the early afternoon, as a regular sat in his chair, someone outside started whistling an old-time tune so perfectly that it sounded like a vintage jukebox had been secretly installed nearby. The barber raised an eyebrow and said, ‘That’s not just any whistle, son. That’s “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes”!’ The regular grinned sheepishly, realizing he’d forgotten his own delivery driver was standing outside with a vintage record player. As they both laughed, another customer walked in—this time, a neighbor who’d heard the music and wondered what kind of magic was happening inside Bullfeathers Barbershop.

3. In the dead of night, when Bullfeathers Barbershop should have been quiet, a regular heard an odd tapping sound coming from behind the counter. Curious, he leaned closer and saw that it was the shop’s old mirror, slowly swaying back and forth like a mischievous ghost. Curious, he reached out to steady the mirror—only for his hand to pass right through it, startling him so much that he yelped. The next morning, everyone in Midtown knew not to miss the barbershop's new decorative feature: a transparent, friendly ghost hanging out over the counter.

4. One day, while a regular was waiting for his turn, he noticed an old leather briefcase sitting unattended on the barbershop counter. Curious, he picked it up—and inside found a stack of vintage postcards from around the city. The regular flipped through them, amused by the quirky sights depicted. Suddenly, one card caught his eye—a mysterious address scribbled in pencil. Excitedly, he showed it to the barber who just finished cutting his hair. ‘That’s my uncle’s place!’ exclaimed the barber. Turns out, every time someone left without paying, Uncle Louie would slip them a postcard with his address.