If you would have told me ten years ago I’d have a small business hitting its stride five years in, I’d probably have done a frozen yogurt spit-take. Those were the yogurt years - many of my jokes were about new mom stress, the set up for one was a 30-something racing up to a yogurt store counter, “Can I have a taste?” she pleads, panting. She throws it back like a whisky shot and sprints for the door yelling, “I gotta go I have a baby in the car!”
Owning a small business, even a comedy one, is no joke. Especially one whose life has spanned a global pandemic. It’s changed my perspective on almost everything! Every store I walk into, every “widget” for sale, every drink, coffee, t-shirt - all of it can send my mind racing. How and where is it produced and distributed? What are the profit margins?
Who am I?
Growing up my father was a real estate broker for restaurants. We couldn’t walk into one without him assessing how the place was run - from the weight of the silverware, to the efficiency of the staff and the crust of the bread in the basket. Eating out was always a case study for him and by extension, the family. Forty years later, I still scan dining rooms noting these things myself.
If learning new things is good for the brain, then I certainly can’t complain about this chapter of my life. The best part actually? Meeting my fellow lunatics! The best kind of lunacy - with big ideas and a fierce passion to bring them into the world. I’m thinking about HydroGummies founder Laine Yeung, Terranean Chip founder Tina Chamoun and all the diversity supplier people at international companies who exist just to help us succeed. So tonight as you raise your glass of a highly marked up beverage, be it soda or scotch, please join me in toast entrepreneurs and small businesses everywhere.
