About

In 2014, I was working at Subway. Just got off a shift, had an event to get to, and needed a fresh cut. I walked into a barbershop, took a seat, and waited. And waited. Two hours. Not one barber approached me — not to take my name, not to let me know what was going on. I finally got up and asked. Turns out it was by appointment only. Every single chair had someone ahead of me. Nobody had bothered to say a word.

I left frustrated. But I went home, picked up the clippers and trimmer I had sitting in the house, and cut my own hair for the first time in my life.

It turned out decent. Good enough that my friends started asking who cut it. When I told them I did it myself, they were genuinely shocked. That moment planted something in me — a quiet but certain confirmation: I can do this.

From that point on, I never went back to that barbershop. I started cutting my own hair consistently, then my friends, then my neighbors — all out of my bathroom. No shop. No license. Just skill building on skill building.

By 2016, I was working at a warehouse and still cutting on the side. Then my wife and I found out she was pregnant. Twins. Everything shifted. When you're about to be responsible for two lives at once, you stop settling. I did the math, looked at what I was already building, and made the decision to go all in on the craft. A friend connected me to a barbershop that was looking for a barber. I went in, worked hard, built my clientele, and earned my license through apprenticeship. Since then, it has been a constant pursuit — elevating my craft, elevating my standards, elevating myself.

Eventually, I knew it was time to build something with my own name on it. It wasn't easy. There were challenges, setbacks, and moments where the path wasn't clear. But I kept going. I kept building. And what came out of all of it is The Razor Maestro Inc.

Here's the thing that stays with me: the reason I picked up those clippers in the first place was because someone didn't respect my time. That experience never left me. So when I built my business, I built it around the principle that failed me. Your time is sacred here. Your appointment means something. You will not sit for two hours waiting on someone who doesn't see you.

That's not just a policy. It's personal.