Inside the Naked Cowboy’s Times Square Business, Expenses, and Routine

This is an as-told-to essay based on a conversation for our video series The Pay Check with Robert John Burck II, also known as the Naked Cowboy, a Times Square street performer. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I’m Robert John Burck II. I exist to get my alter ego, the Naked Cowboy, to Times Square.

I make roughly $150,000 a year, on average, singing and playing my guitar for tourists and locals in New York City. In my best year, I have earned as much as $250,000, and I have had previous consecutive years when I have only made $25,000 to $30,000 — this was just enough to go to work.

I’m here because, in my opinion, this is the most productive use of my time. It’s hard to imagine that getting in your underwear, boots, and hat and standing in the middle of a street corner with no one expecting you to be there could be the most productive thing you can do. But Tony Robbins said: “The most valuable resource is resourcefulness.” And that’s me, I’m a good sport.

The secret to youth and vitality is routine and ritual.

I have an unbelievably disciplined, methodical, and consistent personality. I’ve religiously gone to Times Square every day unless I was flying to another country, going on spring break, or attending other major events; still, these vacations are working vacations. Everywhere I’ve ever been, my underwear, boots, and hat travel with me.

For nearly 28 years, it’s been the same every single day. I wake up and read nonstop for hours, books about mythology, psychology, and sociology. Then I run to the gym and make it a point to train harder than anyone else there. After, I come back to my house and drive to my garage in Times Square, where I work from 11 a.m. to around 5 p.m.

I eat the exact same foods every day. Food is my biggest expense, because it’s the only thing I can’t put off as a business expense. I spend around $120 a day, which includes up to 12 egg whites before I leave the house, plus my lunch of sushi and a protein shake from a Times Square deli.

Almost everything I do is a business expense.

Most people see me in Times Square and assume I make most of my money from tips. But the truth is, the Naked Cowboy is a business — I’m a well-oiled machine, so to speak.

In the first 15 years, I made enough just to do the job. Cameo — an app where I film video requests for different people — was a lifesaver, almost doubling my income.

Last year, I made roughly $20,000 in tips, $50,000 from Cameo, around $7,800 from Naked Cowboy Enterprises, and another $10,000 from Naked Cowboy Oysters.

The only things I buy are what I need for work. I spend roughly $11,000 a year on work expenses. This includes hats, boots, guitar strings, gas, my gym membership — anything pertaining to basically being the naked cowboy.

I used to live in a hotel in New Jersey, but I moved to an apartment in Queens with my wife 14 years ago. My monthly rent in Queens is around $2,100, which includes the garage.

I’ve never taken public transportation. I don’t need it. I’ve been driving since I was 16. My car is like my office; it’s got my boots, my hat, all of my stuff. I could not have been in Times Square and done what I have done without the ability to get out of the cold or heat every 40 minutes. When you add up all of my travel and car expenses, parking and congestion prices, I’m basically paying around $3,000 a month to drive a car.

I’ve never had health insurance. Last year, I spent $3,600 out of pocket for minor medical check-ups in urgent care. I went to the doctor for the first time, two years ago, as the Naked Cowboy. I go to those types of things in my underwear. First thing they tell you at the doctor’s office: “Get naked.” The first thing they tell me is: “Could you put your clothes back on?”

All my money is a resource that lets me continue doing what I do.

My finances are managed by a financial manager.

Every time I’ve gotten a big chunk of additional money, I set some aside. I have a quarter of a million dollars in my CMA and IRA. I also own the Naked Cowbooy trademark. I have no debt, and I’ve had the exact same credit card for 30 years in Green Hills, Ohio. That’s still my bank; I have no banks in New York City.

Every single breath you take costs money in New York City. Yet, I’d rather be broke and living the dream. All my money is a resource that lets me continue doing what I do. There’s a good chance I’ll be doing it tomorrow, too.