I am, with out a doubt, my biggest critic, nothing is ever good enough. I carry this into every aspect of my life. I took it with me to school, I take it into every relationship, I carry it into work. There is a voice in my head that just gnaws away at whatever I am doing. This voice motivates me, as well as terrifies me. It is not a logical voice, but rather an emotional on. It is not driven by reason, it runs on hopes and fears, anger and joy, it bounces all over the place, and the truth is I need to stop listening to it so much.
There are three times in the last ten years that this voice has been a huge detriment, urging me to go forward, when I knew I shouldn't have. Building up my confidence before stripping me back down to nothing. Each time the voice was a little louder than the last, and each time getting up has been a little bit harder.
For the first real failure I have to go back a little more than a decade. I graduated high school early, along with my brother. I was so ready to be done, I never really felt like I fit it, and I was ready to start making money. I had poured concrete with a large contractor the summer before, I didn't necessarily enjoy the work at the time, but I worked hard and conversely my body had become hard from the work. As soon as we graduated we got our jobs back.
We left school on good terms in January, not a great time to pour concrete. I remember it being especially cold that year and by April I was ready to try something new. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life, college was out, it was too expensive, plus I had just finished up twelve years of school. I needed a break, and I wanted to see what I was made of.
We lived near a cozy little lake town, and had learned how to wake board the summer before. We had gone almost every night that summer, It was a painful and somewhat expensive hobby. I had dreams of going pro.. I wore the right clothes, I talked the right talk, and I was willing to try things that where way to advanced, often leaving me bruised or broken for a short period of time, but I always got back up. I was young and my body was quick to forgive me.
So back to April, both my brother and I were ready for a change. there was a small board shop at the lake, and we both thought that would be the best summer job in the world, work in the shop during the day, ride all night. We drove down on a Saturday, just to see if they were hiring. We knew that we had to apply fast, the season at the lake started memorial day, and if we waited till then it would be to late. We drove by multiple times and saw no activity, but we where determined to stick around until we got the chance to talk to someone.
After and hour and a half of driving in circles someone finally showed up. We parked and made our way to the shop. A man came out to greet us. We introduced ourselves and asked if he owned the shop. He told us he did, but that he was looking to sell it so he wasn't sure if he was going to be hiring anyone. A light bulb went off in both of our brains.
My brother quickly asked how much he was asking. He gave us a number and we headed back to the car, giddy with excitement, The voice started to whisper.
We raced home, eager to tell our parents about the opportunity. For the cost of a nice car we could be business owners. It seemed like a flawless plan, it was cheaper than college, and instead of just spending money, we were going to be making money. The voice telling me that I was going to be a millionaire before I hit twenty five, the thought made my mouth water.
My parents were very supportive, but told us that they did not have the money to get us started. It was a depressing blow, but it was not going to hold us back. We were only seventeen at the time, but with some help we put together a business plan and started calling banks set up appointments to see if we could get a loan. The first three banks laughed at us and all but told us to get out. With each no, the light of our dream seemed to fade, but there was no way we were going to give up. There was one more bank on the list, and we were determined to push forward until we couldn't anymore.
We had started these meetings on a Monday and by the time we got to the last one it was Friday. We both woke up with a sense of urgency, the meeting was in the mid morning, so we both showered and got dressed up. (dressed up for a seventeen year old is just jeans, and untucked dress shirt with loose tie around the neck, using a paperclip as a tie clip,,, so classy.) This was it, it was go time.
We arrived at the bank, nervous, but firm in our resolve. Through the course of the week we hadgiven the presentation a couple of time, and we had it down pretty good, Both of us knowing what part we had to play. It was like watching poetry in motion the way the words rolled off our tongues. We knew the questions that were going to come our way, and we were prepared with answers.
The bankers door opened and we walked in, The plan was presented while he sat there quietly, listening to our math, We had decided that we would need twenty two thousand dollars to do it right. part of that would be for stocking the store, part would be for paying rent, and part would be for the actual purchase of the business.
We wrapped up our little show, and waited for him to react. He sat there for a couple of minutes in silence. His lips pursed, hands clasped together, both of his index fingers resting on his chin. I could tell he was thinking, but couldn't tell about what. I started to think that we were looking down the barrel of another no, my heart started to sink at the prospect, but I kept my poker face on, just in case.
He finally lifted his head, and smiled. He told us that he loved the plan, but asked if we had any collateral. We were seventeen, the only thing we owned was a 1986 Buick Le Saber (which is french for the sword.... just in case you didn't know.) and that was not going to get us to the twenty two grand that we so desperately needed. He told us that if we could come up with fifteen thousand for the bank to hold, he would be alright giving us the loan.
We left, it was not a no, but it was certainly not a very solid yes. Fifteen thousand dollars is not a huge amount of money, but when you are seventeen and broke, it might as well be a million. We took a step back and reevaluated our situation. Hope was fading, but we were determined to make it happen. The voice telling me that it was better to burn out that to fade away, We pressed on.
We decided to hit the phones. We called anyone we thought would be willing to help us out. The initial plan was to get three investors, we would ask each for five thousand dollars. Late in the afternoon we made our first call and set up a meeting for the next day. We arrived and made our pitch. The first investor said they could not give us five, but the could give us three, and we where off. The weekend was a blur but by the end of it we had raised thirteen thousand five hundred dollars.
We had a meeting with the bank that Monday, we knew that they wanted fifteen, but we were so close we decided to go for it and see what happened. Half way through the meeting we got a call, telling us there was someone that was interested in our little plan. We cut the meeting short and headed out. We sat down with the potential investor, and an hour later walked out with a check for fifteen hundred dollars, we had made it. We drove back to the bank, our heads in the clouds, I started dreaming of the success ahead, failure was not an option, the voice filling my head with ideas of endless bank accounts and private jets. Telling me that the work was almost done, and the fun was right around the corner.
We were a week away from our birthday, and only five weeks away from memorial day. We had a lot of work to do and not much time to do it. Once the money was in the account we started spending it. We took control of the lease, ordered what we thought we would need, and bought some advertising, even leased the nicest boat we could find. Things where falling into place.
Then the voice started to speak, it was no longer whispering. We had worked hard reach the goal, and for the first time, people where starting to take notice. We were young business owners. We deserved to have fun. I thought that the getting the money together was impressive, and it was, I also thought that maybe it was time to coast. That the business would run itself, so I listened to that voice, as it told me to shut the shop down early and go ride. It told me that it was ok to sleep in, I was my own boss, the shop would open when I got there. My sense of entitlement grew each day. I was the master of my own destiny, and popularity was more important than making sure the business was headed down the right path. I stop working, and started having fun, because I deserved it. I stopped keeping track of the money, and things went down hill quickly.
In a vacation town you have three maybe four months to make enough money to carry you through the year. This did not happen the first year of the shop, so as we closed the doors, it was time to go back to pouring concrete. It was a tough winter, but I made it through, determined to make the shop work. That second summer we took on a silent partner, or so we thought. I did a better job watching the books and keeping the store in order, but money kept disappearing. I had to take a closer look when we bounced a sizable check for some merchandise that we needed oh so badly.
I dug into the books, confused and angry. As it turned out, our silent partner had a gambling problem and had drained our account. We made it to the end of the season, but after that we were dead in the water. Success had slipped though my fingers, because I had focused on the fun and not the work. I had listened to that voice telling me that I deserved the fun, and had relaxed when the battle was just beginning. It was sobering, being 19 and staring at a mountain of debt. I had no idea where to even start, so back to concrete I went. It would take a couple years to get another "wonderful" idea, and with the idea, the voice returned.
Part two: the bakery, will be up tonight.
-Micah
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