
Behind a wooden door on Poe street.
Look for the diamond-shaped sign with gold lettering. Three stone steps, a metal handrail, and an old wooden door. That's us.
Inside it's small and warm. American oldies play on the radio. Two ladies work the chairs — quick, careful, and genuinely good at what they do.
Locals have been coming for years. Tourists usually find us by accident, or because someone whispered the address. We like it that way.
