Howdy, and welcome. My name is Don Padilla. I have been cutting hair since 1959, when I came home from barber college in San Antonio with a state license, a good pair of shears and a lot left to learn. In 1971 I bought this shop from the barber who had it before me, and I have been standing behind the first chair ever since. That's forty years with a comb in my hand, and I still like coming to work in the morning.

Two chairs, one bench, one window on the square. I'm in the first chair every day we're open. The second chair is going on Fridays and Saturdays, so the wait is never too bad, even on a Saturday morning in August.

No appointments. Never have taken them, never will. You come in, you take a seat on the bench, you read the paper, and when it's your turn, it's your turn. First come, first served, whether you're the mayor or the boy who throws the mayor's paper.

Sunday is for church and Monday is for fishing. Friday nights in the fall I lock the door at 5:30 sharp and go to the football game like everybody else in this town. Homecoming week is coming up, and every boy on the team will want a cut on the same Friday. Do yourself a favor and come Tuesday.

Phone: (555) 555-0163. We don't take appointments over the phone either, but you can call and ask how full the bench is. If I don't pick up, I have a man in the chair, and he comes first.

Some young men have never had one, and every one of them ought to try it once. For $12 you get a hot towel to soften the whiskers, hot lather worked in with a brush, a shave with the straight razor, another hot towel and another lather, a second pass if your skin will take it, then a cold towel to close it all up and a splash of bay rum. It takes about half an hour. Men come in for one on their birthdays and the morning of their weddings. A few come in every Saturday, and I don't blame them. A fresh blade for every man, every time.

About once a week a boy in the chair asks me. Here's what they taught us in barber college, and what I've read since. Hundreds of years ago in Europe, barbers did a lot more than cut hair. They pulled teeth, dressed wounds, and let blood, which was what doctors back then thought would cure you of most anything. The story goes that the customer held on tight to a staff while it was done, and the bandages were washed and hung outside on the pole to dry, where the wind wrapped them around it. So the red stripe is for the blood and the white is for the bandages. The ball some poles have on top is supposed to stand for the basin. Most folks say the blue was added over here in America to go with the flag, and I'm not about to argue with that.

The surgery part ended a long, long time ago. You're safe in my chair. The only blood I've drawn this year was my own, cleaning a catfish.

• A barber's license from the State of Texas, on the wall where you can read it.
• Shears, comb and clippers, and the years to know which one to use. No vacuum cleaner contraption off the TV.
• A straight razor finish at the neck and around the ears on every cut, with hot lather.
• I remember how you like it. Some of you, I remember how your daddy liked it.
• Talk if you want to. Don't if you don't. I can do both.
• A flat top that's actually flat. Bring a level.

Not sure what to ask for? Read my Haircut Styles Guide: flat top, crew cut, butch, Princeton, taper, fade and that Caesar cut everybody wants this year, with what to say when you sit down.

Another old barber on GeoCities: Mak's Barber Shop out in Sacramento, three chairs since 1968. He has a camera on his bench so you can look and see if there's a wait before you come down. I don't need a camera. Drive by and look in the window.

I made this page myself in a computer class at the public library last winter. The lady who taught it said keep it simple. This is simple.