There are barbershops run by young guns who try too hard to be traditionalists—limited to men, run by guys whose hair is just a bit too kept to trust—but predictably fall flat as poseurs. And then there are the places like this tiny spot, where tradition blooms naturally, the entertainment can be anything from ska to Dumb and Dumber; the clientele includes lawyers, cholos and rockabillies; the reading material those old Time-Life encyclopedias of bizarre crimes or Harper's; and the conversation is always free-flowing. But most important is the crew run by Carlos “Exit” Landeros, who does the full hot-towel treatment behind the vintage swivel chairs, but also knows his fades from his blends, D.A.s from pompadours, and a 1.5 from a 2. Help yourself to a brewsky from the Depression-era fridge—Exit and company will insist.
