Lucky's Joint Barber Shop: Where Salsa and Boxing Meet for a Haircut

Lucky, dressed in a spotless white smock, his name tattooed across the side of his neck, waves to clients and passers-by as he works. Four red plush barber's chairs are lined up in the middle of the rectangular floor space. Mirrors hang on opposing walls. The original 1940s-era wallpaper, gold with a black raised-velvet pattern, is still hanging. "Brothel wallpaper," says Lucky.

The topic of conversation shifts from boxing to dating to his own roots as a barber while Lucky alternates between scissors and clippers, creating an intricate, layered fade with his client's hair.

This building has operated as a barber shop for as long as Lucky can remember.  He says it's one of the oldest continuously-running barber shops in El Cerrito. The previous Barber, Mike, was in his 80s when Lucky started working here. Before Mike was Wally, a barber Lucky had gone to get his own hair cut when he was a little boy.

The barber pole on the front of the shop remains a nod to the old school of barbering. "I couldn't take it down if I wanted to," says Lucky. "The pole is built into the building. Most of them get stolen these days, but not this one."

Named Jesus at birth, Lucky got his nickname from a friend because of multiple close calls in his life, including cancer, a divorce and a volatile environment growing up in Richmond.

Before he purchased this shop, Lucky practiced barbering on his acquaintances.  Approaching his late 30s, Lucky knew he had to pick a calling. "It just landed in my lap," he says.  

Cosmetology school, which trains hair stylists to cut both men's and women's hair, can cost anywhere from ten grand at a smaller school to around thirty grand at a prestigious school like the Cinta Aveda Institute in San Francisco. Since Lucky needed to get into the field sooner rather than later, he did what few barbers do these days: a two-year apprenticeship program. "Getting into an apprenticeship program is hard," says Lucky.

An apprenticeship is much more of an intimate hands-on learning approach than traditional cosmetology school, which is focused more in a classroom setting. This more intensive training is apparent as Lucky silently incorporates his client's tufts and cowlicks into the fade he is working on.

After training with a professional barber for the requisite amount of time, Lucky purchased the shop he works in now. The shop had fallen into a bit of disrepair. Lucky redid the floors. He hung Cuban paintings, curtains and mirrors. Usually salsa music plays in the background making the lounge-like feel complete."I wanted to do barber-shop style without the Playstation and loud Hip-Hop music," says Lucky.

Lucky's take on modern barbering is that a lot of shops stick with one niche. He can definitely do a straight razor cut, but he doesn't necessarily think it's better than a Mach 3 razor. "In New York, if you don't finish with a straight razor, you're not a barber. Here, it's a luxury. It's more of a novelty these days," he says.

Lucky maintains eye contact in the mirror with the client in his chair as he talks. The mirrors behind and in front of him make him appear to be in multiple places at once. A barber ends up being a therapist and a bartender as well, a feature of the job that is not lost on Lucky. "It's a melting pot here," he says. People come in to talk philosophical, to joke around, to get advice, to brag about conquests."

"This is like a reality show," Lucky says. "I have quite the clientele here."

His clientele includes people from all over the Bay Area including Walnut Creek, San Rafael, Berkeley, Hayward and as far north as Fairfield. Virtually every age range, ethnicity and profession are represented. Regulars include a police officer, a councilmember, a doctor, Hip-Hop style locals, an ex-school teacher, and a Vietnam Vet in a wheelchair who exchanges colorful insults with Lucky. The client in Lucky's chairs right now happens to be a hairstylist from a fancy full-service salon in Berkeley.

For a second Lucky fantasizes about learning to cut women's hair. "I would love to conquer all elements of the trade," he says.

But after a couple of minutes of his client describing what it is like in the full-service salon world, Lucky shakes his head, "nah."

 Lucky does a range of styles including gentlemen's haircuts, tapers and fades. "There are at least seven different kinds of faux hawk," says Lucky. "If I can't cut it, it probably can't be cut."

Clients know that if they mention boxing, their haircut is going to take at least fifteen minutes longer. This doesn't stop a lot of them. Lucky has also been nicknamed the "fight doctor" because of his advice and predictions on how the fights will turn out. He tries not to pick favorites, but he says "my overall complete fighter would be Roberto Durant, a hog of a fighter. He can take a whoopin' and just keep coming."

Lucky has no problem being straightforward with his clients. If their hair won't permit a style of cut, he doesn't claim to be a magician. This is a barber joint, not the Next Top Model. He grabs the scissors again, ultimately blending the top of his client's hair into a flawless tapered hawk.