Why I Pay Double at This Barbershop

Monument Barber sits in a converted house in a quiet part of our small town, Waco, Texas. Not exactly where you'd expect to find hospitality gold. But in my estimate, it's better than some of the best barbershops in the world.

I collect hospitality lessons obsessively. I love great experiences.

Restaurants, retail, coffee shops, museums, taxis, flights, fitness clubs, barbershops, hospitals — there’s always something to learn.

Usually, what not to do.

But sometimes, you find a pure gem.

Last year in London, I made a pilgrimage to Pankhurst — regarded by many as one of the world’s finest barbershops, tucked beneath a Savile Row tailor, with hand-upholstered Bentley chairs and Mr. Pankhurst himself wielding the scissors. It did not disappoint.

But Monument is even better.

Nic, the head guy, is a gentle giant with shoulder-length hair and a voice like warm honey. He’s not performing “barber” — he is one. Genuine, curious, unpolished, and a world-class conversationalist.

Nic is a master of his craft.

He handles the buzzer, scissors, straight razor, and comb with the precision of a surgeon and the flair of a great musician. He uses a hair dryer like it's an extension of his hands — something I've never seen another barber do with such intention. Every movement has purpose, rhythm, soul. It feels amazing.

The space tells a story.

Groovy records spin, clippers hum, conversation flows. The carefully chosen hair products infuse the house with a subtle, memorable scent. Vintage magazines, a cooler full of complimentary drinks, and plenty of quirky details make the space sing with character.

There’s grace here. You feel it the moment you walk in.

I pay twice what I’d pay elsewhere and consider it a bargain. The haircut itself is excellent, but the experience is irreplaceable. I count down the days to my appointment.

In a world of rushed transactions, Monument gives you something rare: time that feels well spent. Time is the currency of experiences, and services are about time well saved.

Experiences are about time well spent.

the lesson

Monument’s secret isn’t scalable (at least not en masse), and that’s the point. You can’t bottle Nic’s personality or mass-produce the feeling of walking into that old house. You can’t franchise authenticity or systematize genuine curiosity about strangers.

But you can steal the principles:

Inhabit your role. Nick isn’t acting like a barber. He is one. Authenticity in service is magnetic.

Design with intention. Excellence lives in a thousand tiny, thoughtful decisions.

Offer grace, not just service. It’s more than being “helpful.” It’s helping people feel seen, valued, and at peace. You recognize it instantly, even if you can't name it.

The irony? By not chasing scale, Monument has created something infinitely more valuable: a business people love, write about, and gladly pay a premium for.

Maybe the question isn't whether great hospitality can scale.

Maybe it's whether your business is brave enough to stay small enough to stay magical.

Have a wonderful week — and on this Memorial Day, I’m especially grateful for those who laid down their lives so we can live freely.

— Isaac