Holy Shit

When the guides from Trekk Travel came in this week to ask if they could bring in their group of 26 bicyclists on Saturday, they assured me that they would all come staggering in between the hours of 11:30-1pm.

Come noon, all 26 bikers came tapping down the hall in their funny spiked shoes.... plus the regular Johnson Saturday crowd, plus a slew of parents and kids from JSC (Parent's Weekend at the college).

It's now getting on 5pm and I'm sitting down with a salad and taking a breath. The day has been a flurry of sandwiches, soups, dishes and register zone. I * am * so * glad * I * prepped * like * hell * for * this * day!

Hot damn.

Bill came in for a latte before heading across the street to get some work done and got pulled behind the counter to help prep some plates and catch up on the dishes. I think he got stuck back there for an hour and a half.

An hour or so after he left, Word Bob jumped behind the counter to do some more dishes. He got a free lunch.

I just don't think this place is cut out for that kind of volume.

But the tab for Trekk Travel came to almost $300 so I'm not complaining.
Looks like a record day.

Closing up Shop

Minutes after that last post, Annette came strolling into the shop. We were supposed to have a little milk frothing gala after closing tonight... experimenting with the degree and type of foam on various coffee drinks. I was trained a certain way when I came on here at the shop and, as it turns out, my foam has been a bit "off".

There's a great video out there about how to master the foam thing and the guy who presents it looks a little like Napolean Dynamite's brother... so needless to say, it's pretty entertaining. With Annette's help, I was going to practice getting the technique down and, if time and energy allowed, maybe even master the "Rosetta Latte" ~ a pretty little latte decoration made out of the foam on top of the drink. If I get really good, I can make a little heart on the top of the lattes.... how very appropriate for the cafe's name!

I had to cancel for tonight though. Bill is sick at home and I was way too wiped after trying to understand all that tax bullshit. Not to mention the fact that my head was still spinning with the register confusion that I learned about tonight... how, for some reason, the register is programmed with Virginia's tax rate instead of Vermont's tax rate.. which leaves the numbers off by a handful of dollars every night and lends alot of confusion when it comes time to decipher exactly what I need to paying out for quarterly taxes.

But there was Annette, hand on her hip, standing behind the counter like the old days and it was just such a wonderful sight to see. She pulled up her sleeves and dove into my two sinks full of dirty dishes while she talked to me about going through the menu and costing everything as we go along. She even offered to make her fabulous scones for three months for free... provided I buy the ingredients. I love you, Annette!

She also reassured me that Lisa, her partner in this business three years ago, knows my register on an intimate level. The two of them have been instrumental in building my confidence in this venture and I'm convinced at this point that I have the absolute best coaches and support team I could ever ask for.

I still don't know how I'm going to keep track of all the tax payments I need to make or why the hell the state and federal government take so much god damn money from small business owners but....... it's pretty validating to have this kind of support. Especially minutes after I felt like I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and rock back and forth.

Annette... that Rolex you left above the sinks.... you better come get it early in the morning or else I'll be out there selling it on the street corner. Life's tough for a business owner these days... gotta get it where I can, you know?

First Week Over~ How Much Longer To Go?

The spans of time between my posts these days are a pretty good indication of what this first week in business has been like. I can't even believe I pulled myself to the computer tonight to make it happen. It's getting on midnight and I'm bone tired and I've run my course with the five cds in the player closing up shop, sweeping, mopping, counting the drawer and doing inventory. Now the place is quiet and the sky is dark and the bushes outside are blowing around in the wind.... tap tap tapping on the old windows in front of me here.

The first few nights of this first week in business were full of anxiety about the financial end of things. Would my nightly deposits add up to enough to pay all the distributors? Would I have enough for payroll? Oh shit, I didn't take out any working capital... looks like all the pretties I wanted to get for the shop will have to wait... some of them, anyway. What if... what if... what if...

Now, though, after seven days of making sure that orders are placed, pastries are on the shelves, chai is brewed, the drawer is balanced and the floor is mopped.... my hands are dry and crusty from bleach water and I'm way too fucking exhausted at the end of the night to lay awake worrying about my numbers. I have no choice but to save that anxiety for my waking hours.

People ask me how it's going and I smile. I remember asking a friend that question years ago when she was going through a tough time. Her response was "Do you want the honest answer or the polite answer?" I could respond similarly now.

"Precisely how much detail are you looking for exactly?"

I meet tomorrow with the previous owner's bookkeeper... the one who usually makes me see stars from absolute confusion. We're getting together so she could walk me through doing my own payroll. I spent time with my dear Annette the other night, loading Quickbooks Payroll into my computer and plugging my invoices, deposits and written checks into the program. I feel a little more on top of my game now and I might actually be able to follow the bookkeeper when we sit down together tomorrow. Maybe.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll have some dinero left over after my pay my girls.

Slow Saturday

The weather finally broke. A little, anyway. It's the first day of many that I don't feel like I'm going to drop dead behind the counter. There's a small wind coming through the window by the sink and I'm not covered in a glaze of sweat and steamed milk.

Thursday was so unbelievably busy that if I came up for air at all in between customers I had to turn directly to the mounting pile of dishes. I left here in the evening with a long mental list of all the prep work that needed done the following morning. I let Els sleep in Friday and drove into the shop at 6:30am to cut eight sheets foccaccia and start the day. After work I made my first solo run to Costco, where I met up with miss Amy T. We cruised the big box store with our giantess carts and caught up with eachother while we stood in line for nearly a half hour. I think it's going to take me some time to wrap my head around the fact that I'm going to be shopping weekly at Costco. There's this eerie kind of comraderie in the milling crowd... a heavy sense of consumerism penetrating everything. Almost like an odd excitement..... more stuff. more stuff. more stuff.

I'm finally finding the time to look at incoming invoices, take note of regular purchases, quantities, prices, delivery dates, etc. I'm still waiting for my computer to arrive in the mail, at which point I can load up Quickbooks and plug all this info it. Amy uses the same bank that I'll be using and so I got to look at her business checks and see how it's all organized. Just that small detail has settled a quiet anxiety about the money side of things....

This morning's shift was really quiet. The church down the street is having their annual flea market and it's a slow kind of Saturday. Business trickled in all day and as a result I had a chance to dive under the sink and clean, prep more, and just enjoy the sensation of feeling on top of things for once.

Twenty Four Hours of Anxiety

The past twenty four hours have been just unbelievable. Some wires got crossed about closing (or not closing) on the first of the month, accounts were closed, had to be re-opened, roles redefined, schedules tweeked.....

I finally got the business plan emailed back to me yesterday afternoon, printed out at Kinkos and spent last night writing up the cover letter, cover page, table of contents, appendix and filing it all into a pretty little folder... the kind you might use to present an end of term paper.

This morning, on my way out the door to open the shop, I realized that the numbers for the loan and start up costs weren't plugged in correctly to the Cash Flow Chart and so I spent my morning, brow furrowed, dodging off to the computer in between lattes and breakfast paninis so that I could calculate the correct figures and plug them in to the Excel version. The next question that haunted me, an hour later and forty five minutes before I'm due at the bank, was how the hell I'm going to print this chart out before I have to leave for my appointment and hand it over to Mr. Loan Officer.

My friend Melissa, a golden halo hovering over her chic haircut and long earrings, came striding in with little Miles and suggested I email her the Excel spreadsheet and she would drive back up to her house, print it for me and bring it back. Bill, who was joining me at the bank, came over to the shop, took Ella up to a friend's house and came back to get me just as Melissa was pulling in and handing me the spreadsheet. It felt like a great relay race with a stressful paper baton being passed in the bumpy dirt parking lot out back.

Really, the whole Cash Flow Chart was null and void...for the bank's purposes anyway. I have zero working capital to put into this venture so it looks as though a home equity loan is the route we'll be taking after all. Had I known this two months ago, I probably would have just gone in and settled the deal with our very sweet mortgage banker lady and thus been able to enjoy the profits of the busiest month of the year. As it turns out, we'll close the deal in two weeks, hopefully less, and pro-rate the rent and the bills from the accounts we've already opened in my name. What mayhem.

The current owner is going to come in and work the mid-week shifts so she's not losing all her money to payroll and that will free me up to work on the unfinished kitchen space, sheet-rock the small office space and crawl under the back of this house, under the kitchen, in 90 degree weather so that I can stuff fiberglass insulation into the floor. Kinda like Tom Sawyer and white washing a fence... great fun. Who wants to come help? I'll provide the beer and protective eye glasses? Maybe even throw in a massage for good measure?

Gurus, garden peas and cherry seeds

These days are kinda like walking through a house. Some rooms have lights on and I can see through the windows, find my way out. Some rooms are pitch black, shades drawn and it's a matter of throwing my arms out and pawing my way over fuzzy wallpaper until I feel my way to the doorknob.

After meeting today with Bob from Capital Grounds in Montpelier, where we get our coffee, I realized how very much I don't know about coffee. But it was a great meeting and I was able to start the process of wrapping my head around it.

I had to cut the meeting short so that I could start the hour and a half trek north into the islands to meet with my small business guru. It was my first time driving up that way and I was totally amazed by how very different it is from the rest of the state. The landscape, the vegetation, the architecture. As soon as I got off the exit, a huge storm moved in and the lake waters were almost surf-able. The long strands of the weeping willows, which we have so few of here in this area, were all blowing horizontal in the winds (gale force winds, mom!). I could barely hear Gillian Welch over the pounding on the roof of the truck.

Twenty miles later, the sun was shining and the windsheild spotless. Vermont.

I spent three hours with the guru. I went in there with a stack of forms and a lack of clarity about how the next two weeks needed to be played out. I was definately groping the fuzzy wallpaper in the dark room for a doorknob.

By the time I left, someone must have tweeked with the fuse box because power was restored, lights were back on and the shades were all pulled up.

He babysat me through that stack of forms, gave me a sweet, little tutorial on quarterly taxes, and went over the business plan. AGAIN. Thanks Pat!

Before I left our meeting, I learned that he has an organic garden and sells his produce, so on my way back out of the islands I stopped at a local store and picked up a bag of his certified organic peas, a bag of cherries and then spent the hour and a half ride home eating peas, listening to more Gillian Welch and spitting cherry seeds out my window.

More Gratitude

I walked into work yesterday and the bookkeeper was sitting at the bar with her laptop open and a big, fat stack of invoices spread on the counter. She comes in twice a month to do payroll, pay bills and file things into Quickbooks. She has an amazing energy to her, shoots straight from the hip and every time I leave a conversation with her, I'm left reeling and terrified about this project I have looming before me. About five minutes into dialogue with her my eyes start to lose their focus and I find myself at least three sentences behind where she is... trying to catch up. There's just that much to do. And she knows so much!

After she left and my lists were made and stacked into the 'to do' pile, I had to work really hard on not being overwhelmed with that list. It took me the better part of the afternoon to center and focus on just being where I was, while I was there. Behind the counter.

Mid afternoon rolled around and things quieted down in here. The sun was finally shining outside and for the first time in three days a nice breeze was coming in through the old screened windows.

A great, conversational guy from Bakersfield named Harry came in on his way home from Maine. He sat at the counter eating a panini and drinking some iced black tea and told me about his big fight to keep Walmart out of St. Albans. Yeah, Harry.

Around four o'clock I pulled out my bag and unloaded my folders, lists, phone numbers and financial plan. On three loose sheets of white paper were my notes from the past two days and so I picked up the telephone to call Sarah, who owns the beautiful book store three doors down.

I asked if she had any day planners and could she could please put one aside so that I could run down to buy it before she closes. I joked that if I didn't get one today everything was going to fall apart.

Two and a half minutes later, Sarah comes walking into the coffee shop, day planner in hand, and passes it over the counter to me.

"It's yours. Someday I'll need a sandwich." And then she turns to walk out.

I'm still just totally awestruck by the kindness of people. I hope that someday she needs a hell of a lot more than a sandwich.

After I finished closing up shop, my big plan was to turn the music up loud, put on some old clothes and clean the bejesus out of this place. As I was finishing counting out the drawer and writing out the day's deposit, another good friend (God Bless You, Annette) came in... long yellow, rubber gloves in hand... and offered me one hour of her time. That was at 7pm. At 10pm, all the woodwork and furniture in the big sitting room sparkling clean, our heads full of Roots Manuva, she threw in the towel. Thank you, thank you, Annette.... and a special thank you for your sound advice on the potential disaster of painting my coffee room split pea green. I will heed that advice. Much as it might pain me.

What a day of absolute giving. I feel so damn loved.....
And...my windows are clean, to boot.

Yesterday's Playlist
Arabic Groove ~ Putumaya
Brazilian Groove ~ Putumaya
Flaming Lips... Recently, a good friend downloaded three and a half days worth of music onto our computer. There's still easily about two and a half days of music that I've never even heard of, let alone listened to yet.
I put two Flaming Lips albums onto my Ipod and was eager to check it out.
Of all the artists I've played here at the shop, this band drew the most response.

What great energy the music has. Keeper.

I think the Flaming Lips actually carried me through the better part of the day.

The only other album I remember playing was the soundtrack to the
Jack Johnson and Malloy brother's surf flick ~ Broke Down Melody. Great movie. Amazing Soundtrack.

And then it was Sizzla and Roots Manuva for Annette... who requested good reggae to clean to.
And clean she did.

Gittin er Done

I'm about three numbers away from finishing the business plan and may even have it to the bank by Monday.

I'm meeting with my small business guru on Friday... where I'll probably find about forty more things I need to do to make it complete but.... we're close.

I talked to the people who sell credit card machines today, talked to my insurance guy, the graphic design friend and the friend who is going to take over the baking. It's been an exciting day here in the hills. Lots of talk about cinnamon buns, flourless mocha tortes, Italian anise waffle cookies.... workers comp policies, 1.69% on each credit transaction, new faucets!

I've been trying really hard to not put my energy yet into the nesting element of this shop. I'm trying to keep my focus on the numbers instead of the sheetrock that needs to go up in the office space or the floor that needs to be insulated in the kitchen. Once I have this plan to the bank I can enjoy those things... I can look through the gigantic stack of paint samples I picked up today and I can think about where the new furniture will go or what kind of hanging plants to buy for the porch. Bleeding hearts? Begonias?

Opening the shop tomorrow morning is coming quick, though. Time for sleep.