None of them are house rules in the sense of atmosphere. Each one exists because something happened, and the reason is worth more than the rule is.
No appointment book in ninety-eight years. Sit down and the next chair is yours. Ring ahead if you want to know the wait and somebody will tell you honestly.
Seven on Tuesday to Friday, five on Saturday. A hot towel shave is thirty-five minutes and a combo is seventy-five; taking one at five to eight means finishing it badly or keeping three men here past nine.
Both, no preference, no minimum and no surcharge. There is no app and there is nothing to download.
Texting is fine. A conversation is not, because the barber has to stop moving every time you turn your head and a twenty-minute cut becomes thirty-five. Step outside and keep your turn.
Fifteen to twenty per cent is the usual and nobody counts. It goes to the man who cut your hair rather than into a pool.
In the chair, while the cape is still on. We will fix it then and there for nothing. Three days later there is not much anybody can do except take more off.
Rule four. Everything else on this list is logistics; that one is the only thing we ask of people and it is not about noise.
The bench is half of this shop. Men who came in for a haircut end up in a conversation with somebody they have never met, about the Nets or the block or nothing, and that has been happening in this room since 1928. It stops happening when three of the six people in here are on the phone.
Nobody is going to say anything to you. But that is what the rule is for, and it is the one we would keep if we had to lose the other five.
There is nothing to buy at the counter. No pomade line, no beard oil, no branded anything. If you ask what to use we will tell you, and twice a year that answer is something we happen to have a tin of in the back, which we will sell you at what it cost us.
The reason is not principle exactly. It is that a shop where the barber suggests a product is a shop where you spend the last two minutes of your haircut wondering whether the suggestion was about your hair.
Cash or card, either one, no minimum and no surcharge. There is no app and no online payment.
Fifteen to twenty per cent is normal here and nobody keeps score. It goes to the man who cut your hair rather than into a shared pool.
Say so in the chair while the cape is on and we will fix it immediately at no charge. Three days later the only remaining option is taking more off, which is rarely what anybody wanted.
An hour before close, so seven on Tuesday to Friday and five on Saturday. A shave is thirty-five minutes and rushing one is how people get cut.
Six policies, ninety-eight years, one bench. Walk in Tuesday to Saturday.
Example interactive prototype. Not a real business. Names, photographs, reviews and figures on this page are illustrative. Identifying details on real client work are changed to protect their privacy. This is what Yeti can build for a barbershop in seven days.