We lived in a blow up mattress on my mother-in-law's living room for the next 15 months. She was very generous to let us stay there and the kids lived in Cathy's old room when she was young. When I think back on it, it is hard to believe that for roughly 500 days and nights, we blew that mattress up and in the morning, deflated it, rolled it up and put it away. It is interesting though that with all of our possessions stripped away, when all we had was each other, we were happy. Don't get me wrong, it sucked to live this way but it was healing to not have the weight of debt and responsibility hanging over our heads.
In September of 2000, I went back to work for a high-end restaurant company I had worked for previously and was soon the Cellar-master or Sommelier of an award-winning wine list. That was a fun job, but I wanted to return to my normal role as GM or "big dog" and in June of 2001, I took over at a well-known restaurant that had recently been rocked by a scandal. The people who owned this restaurant were genuine and honest people who I am honored to have aided in a difficult time. They still remain the best employers I have ever had. The husband and I were very different in style, but he has an uncommon knack for knowing what works with the common man. It would be an unwise thing to not pay attention to what he thought would work. The wife (and CFO) was a fairly brilliant business-person who was in the business because she was married to the person who had owned it. It was not her passion, but she was very good at it. She is now a successful Real Estate broker and as far as I can tell, very happy about it. Her trust in me carried me through and allowed me to remember who I am. They are great people and I will forever be in their debt for allowing me to run their operation for two years.
Shortly after the summer ended, I came to work and the host told me the bartender called to ask if we were open that day. I asked why we would not be open and she said because of a plane accident in New York. I told her that was ridiculous and to tell him to get his ass to work. Then I turned on the TV.
It is hard for us to remember or for people who don't remember to comprehend the abject fear with which September 11 gripped us. We didn't know what was going on. We didn't know how many planes had been hijacked. As I turned on the news and saw that two jets had crashed into the World Trade Center, that one had crashed into the Pentagon, that one had crashed in Pennsylvania, we didn't know how many were out there. As the day drew on, some restaurants did close. We did not and we were busy that day as people came out to talk with others, to see other Americans and to discuss what just happened. The more than 3000 people who actually died in those heinous attacks actually pale in comparison to what could have happened. Fifty Thousand people worked at the Twin Towers, the toll could have been so much worse. Of course, later in the day, our fear turned to anger. Within 6 weeks of that day, America would launch an invasion which to this day has our troops in war.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Part 84
I have to say, never open a business on a credit card. I had no capital to start this business. I borrowed everything other than $10,000 invested from some family members. It is amazing I was able to continue as long as I did. One would think I would know better as I would have advised anyone who asked to never do what I did. But, I was different right? The basic rules of business do not apply, because I am special right? Wrong.
In July of 1999, I took on a few more investors. They were friends of my mother-in-law, very nice people. I lost their money. In November, I could not pay my rent and in the middle of the night, I moved to another location that did not have a drive through. Yeah, I was that guy and I still hate it. The new location lost most of our guests and half of my staff. I began working even more.
In the middle of December I woke up with a bad stomach ache and began vomiting. My wife thought I was being a big baby and told me so. I still get to use it against her that I actually had acute appendicitis. I had surgery later that day and had to close the coffee house during the week of Christmas as I had a few surgical issues and was in recovery for the time. When we re-opened at the beginning of the year with only 3 staff members, we had almost no customers. The few we had were great and came multiple times per day, but it wasn't enough. Within a few weeks, I worked from open to close every day but Sunday when I would head in after church.
We did not enjoy the church we attended but it was the best we could come by at the moment. Our son hated going to church and we couldn't leave him in the nursery, he was quite a crier. Of course, he was only 3 so I can't really complain. So, during this time I almost never saw my family and was steadily losing the ability to just function. At one point I could not afford the phone bill at the coffee house and had to let them shut it off. My wife was at home taking phone calls from creditors and I was at work from 5am until 11pm, alone, with no means of communication. It was one of the most stressful times in our life and taught us so much about ourselves, what we value and it completely humbled me. I will never again believe that I can make things happen with sheer willpower, with the force of my personality. I don't regret it but I would never want to do it again, nor would I wish that level of stress on anyone else.
In June of 2000, we lost the business, lost our house, lost many of our possessions and began the process of declaring bankruptcy. I had an opportunity to be an assistant casting director for commercials, but an actor's strike had just begun so we went back to San Jose to stay with my mother-in-law and wait out the strike. We thought we might move back up to LA, but ended up never moving back from San Jose.
In July of 1999, I took on a few more investors. They were friends of my mother-in-law, very nice people. I lost their money. In November, I could not pay my rent and in the middle of the night, I moved to another location that did not have a drive through. Yeah, I was that guy and I still hate it. The new location lost most of our guests and half of my staff. I began working even more.
In the middle of December I woke up with a bad stomach ache and began vomiting. My wife thought I was being a big baby and told me so. I still get to use it against her that I actually had acute appendicitis. I had surgery later that day and had to close the coffee house during the week of Christmas as I had a few surgical issues and was in recovery for the time. When we re-opened at the beginning of the year with only 3 staff members, we had almost no customers. The few we had were great and came multiple times per day, but it wasn't enough. Within a few weeks, I worked from open to close every day but Sunday when I would head in after church.
We did not enjoy the church we attended but it was the best we could come by at the moment. Our son hated going to church and we couldn't leave him in the nursery, he was quite a crier. Of course, he was only 3 so I can't really complain. So, during this time I almost never saw my family and was steadily losing the ability to just function. At one point I could not afford the phone bill at the coffee house and had to let them shut it off. My wife was at home taking phone calls from creditors and I was at work from 5am until 11pm, alone, with no means of communication. It was one of the most stressful times in our life and taught us so much about ourselves, what we value and it completely humbled me. I will never again believe that I can make things happen with sheer willpower, with the force of my personality. I don't regret it but I would never want to do it again, nor would I wish that level of stress on anyone else.
In June of 2000, we lost the business, lost our house, lost many of our possessions and began the process of declaring bankruptcy. I had an opportunity to be an assistant casting director for commercials, but an actor's strike had just begun so we went back to San Jose to stay with my mother-in-law and wait out the strike. We thought we might move back up to LA, but ended up never moving back from San Jose.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Part 83
My family is known for boys. My dad comes from a whole litter of boys, as does his dad. I told my wife when I married her to get ready for boys, because we were incapable of siring girls. So imagine our wonderful surprise in September of 1998 to find ourselves the proud parents of a baby girl! She was, and is, a very beautiful, smart and funny girl with a great disposition. However, we have since this time worried every time I am out of work that we will get pregnant again. It was only twice, but still...
I like to call this time my interview time. I still didn't know that I was getting bad-mouthed all over town (found that out a few months later) and blamed for all sorts of things other people were doing. I had saved up some money form our stunningly low income and was collecting unemployment. The settlement from my former employer came at the right time and I was writing business plans for restaurants trying to get something going on my own. The problem with this was that the capital needed to open a restaurant was exceedingly high. So in early 1999, I changed gears. I decided to open a coffee house and with an initial investment from my mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law, I began searching for a site for my new place. In March, I leased a former Taco Bell in Cypress CA and began changing it into a coffee house. I hired far too many opening employees and opened only the third drive-thru coffee house in Orange County on May 3rd 1999. I expected the drive thru to account for roughly 30% of my business, but it accounted for 85%. That was good news, but the inside was lonely and boring. The bad news was that I also estimated that more than 50% of our drinks would be specialty drinks, but more than 70% of our sales were coffee at less than $2.
On top of not particularly great sales, the county came down on me pretty hard for my theory that I wasn't serving food and so I didn't need a health permit. They hit me with huge fees in every area they could find. I ended up making it right with them by being up front and playing the village idiot. The truth is that I had worked too long in a club environment, around shady characters and I needed to get my ethics back. This is hard for me to write because I am so opposed to this theory now, but I was soul-less in my business prior to July 1998 and it took a short time to right the ship of my ethical stance. At the time, I thought ethics had nothing to do with business, I believed in practicality alone. I am very far on the other side now, I believe ethics is about the only thing that matters in business or life. But at the time, I had it backwards and sometimes I had to pay for that.
In June, I finally responded to Paul's letter. I think my response was about 5 pages, but I avoided being defensive and tried hard to admit my failure. I told him I understood that I had treated him poorly and that our friendship was broken and not worthy of repair, but if he wanted, we could build a new friendship based on mutual respect and dignity. I am pleased to tell you that he responded favorably, and though there were occasionally some hiccups, we have remained friends for the last 13 years. We are not as close as we once were, but I think that has more to do with distance and life than with anything else. He occasionally responds to these posts and has called me when I write something painful. I appreciate the friendship we have now and am still sorry for the horrible friend I was. That friendship that was broken and destroyed, taught me some things about myself and keeps me questioning how I interact with others still. It is very much a reminder that I am not perfect and often, in spite of myself, do the wrong thing to people. If I do the wrong thing, and I like me, how can I get too angry with others when they do the wrong thing with me.
Don't get me wrong, I still get angry....I just recognize my hypocrisy, and oddly, I am grateful for that.
I like to call this time my interview time. I still didn't know that I was getting bad-mouthed all over town (found that out a few months later) and blamed for all sorts of things other people were doing. I had saved up some money form our stunningly low income and was collecting unemployment. The settlement from my former employer came at the right time and I was writing business plans for restaurants trying to get something going on my own. The problem with this was that the capital needed to open a restaurant was exceedingly high. So in early 1999, I changed gears. I decided to open a coffee house and with an initial investment from my mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law, I began searching for a site for my new place. In March, I leased a former Taco Bell in Cypress CA and began changing it into a coffee house. I hired far too many opening employees and opened only the third drive-thru coffee house in Orange County on May 3rd 1999. I expected the drive thru to account for roughly 30% of my business, but it accounted for 85%. That was good news, but the inside was lonely and boring. The bad news was that I also estimated that more than 50% of our drinks would be specialty drinks, but more than 70% of our sales were coffee at less than $2.
On top of not particularly great sales, the county came down on me pretty hard for my theory that I wasn't serving food and so I didn't need a health permit. They hit me with huge fees in every area they could find. I ended up making it right with them by being up front and playing the village idiot. The truth is that I had worked too long in a club environment, around shady characters and I needed to get my ethics back. This is hard for me to write because I am so opposed to this theory now, but I was soul-less in my business prior to July 1998 and it took a short time to right the ship of my ethical stance. At the time, I thought ethics had nothing to do with business, I believed in practicality alone. I am very far on the other side now, I believe ethics is about the only thing that matters in business or life. But at the time, I had it backwards and sometimes I had to pay for that.
In June, I finally responded to Paul's letter. I think my response was about 5 pages, but I avoided being defensive and tried hard to admit my failure. I told him I understood that I had treated him poorly and that our friendship was broken and not worthy of repair, but if he wanted, we could build a new friendship based on mutual respect and dignity. I am pleased to tell you that he responded favorably, and though there were occasionally some hiccups, we have remained friends for the last 13 years. We are not as close as we once were, but I think that has more to do with distance and life than with anything else. He occasionally responds to these posts and has called me when I write something painful. I appreciate the friendship we have now and am still sorry for the horrible friend I was. That friendship that was broken and destroyed, taught me some things about myself and keeps me questioning how I interact with others still. It is very much a reminder that I am not perfect and often, in spite of myself, do the wrong thing to people. If I do the wrong thing, and I like me, how can I get too angry with others when they do the wrong thing with me.
Don't get me wrong, I still get angry....I just recognize my hypocrisy, and oddly, I am grateful for that.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Part 82
1998 was another year at the club. Though our event sales were growing, so was my distaste for just about everything associated with the club, including myself. I didn't realize it but I had already lost my staff. As someone who has always prided himself on his leadership abilities, it says something that the entire staff disliked me. My friendship with Paul was taking a hit and the close daily interaction was unfortunately revealing that I had issues with Paul that I was not dealing with. This all came to a head later during the summer, but first there were some good things going on.
We did two great parties in the first half of 1998. The first was a benefit for the Aids Relief Fund for Hair Professionals during the Long Beach Hair show which raised $87,000 for people who could not work in their field (hair) due to Aids or Aids-related issues. I have rarely felt better about working for a cause than I did on this party and it went off very well. All of our partners, all of our staff, and all of the organization, celebrities and all others did a great job putting this together. The transformation of the club into a formal ballroom was pretty impressive and helped us to sell the second big party. That party was during an electronics convention and was a $117,000 party which soon after would cause me huge problems with the corporation for whom I worked. The party went well and our net profit for the day was over $40,000. That is a pretty big number, but apparently it wasn't big enough.
After the party had ended, I received a call from my boss asking what I was going to do with the gratuity from the event. It was more than $20,000, and I told him that I was going to disburse it. To my surprise, he asked me why and I told him that the staff had worked hard all year and this was their reward. He asked where the company's reward was, so I gave him a pro forma (breakdown)showing the sizable profit the company was making for the day. He made me send him a sheet detailing every person's pay out from the gratuity, so I did. He then systematically cut every single person's tip except mine. I would like to think that he just thought the worst of me and was giving me more so I wouldn't raise a stink, but I think what he was really doing was sowing dissent with the staff. If I made a lot and everyone else did not, they would turn on me (and they did). In the end, the company kept $7000 of the gratuity. My wife was pregnant with our second child, so I was in no position to give back anything they weren't willing to take from me. Within two weeks, one of my employees called the company to claim I was doing something wrong.
The complaint was based on ignorance and fueled by my poor treatment and lack of trust for my staff. The complaint was that I was stealing door charge money. The fact was that I had an agreement with the President and VP of operations which allowed me to take a portion of the door money to pay back expenses I had used to build both the live music and the event business. Due to the fact that it showed the company having very little faith in my plan, I did not talk with the staff about my arrangement. To be honest, it wasn't any of their business, but the lack of transparency set me up to look like a bad guy and my boss used it to the fullest.
I had three conference calls per week at the job. I had to dial in from the Sprint phone at work and they were always scheduled at 1pm eastern, which was 10am pacific. Additionally, the company had a stated lack of trust in anyone to close the restaurant other than myself, so most nights, I got home between 3:30am and 5am. I worked a minimum of 6 days a week and was at the club on average 100 hours per week. I was tired, depressed, frustrated and demoralized. On June 30th, this came to a head on a conference call. The VP who usually ran the call was out and my boss (regional manager) was leading the call. It was a call that had absolutely nothing to do with my club. It was an hour long, mandatory call about features which my club did not have. Every time they came around to me in the round robin discussion, all I had to say was, "We don't have this in Long Beach." After about thirty minutes of this, my boss took another call and told us all to wait on the line. After 15 minutes of waiting, I hung up. 5 minutes later, I received a call from my boss asking if I just hung up on him (which I found to be ridiculous). I told him that since I had no input, I chose the least interrupting moment to withdraw from the conversation. Like a child, he hung up on me.
The next morning was my one day off. I received a call that Dave (my boss) was at the club and wanted to see me. This wasn't good and I knew it. I went to the club and Paul was upstairs, I asked if it was just me or were they closing down the club and he said he didn't know what I was talking about and Dave was in my office. Dave and I began to talk. His first shot was about the phone, it wasn't a reasonable shot so it passed quickly, I was right about not being needed on the phone. His next shot was about door charges, I reiterated that he knew I had an agreement to get back the expenses from live music equipment and event costs, he just said, "Really? Do you have that in writing?" He smiled a pretty evil little smile. Dave thought he was the king in this conversation, but to be honest whether he fired me or I quit, I knew I wasn't leaving the room with a job. His next hit was asking if I was calling him names or talking about him to the staff. I told him this was just silly, that yes I thought he was an asshole but I doubted I had shared that with a staff with whom I was not that close. That was when he said they would be separating me that day. To not leave the staff without equipment, I said I would pick up that for which I had not been reimbursed after the weekend. I later found out that the company dismantled my system and sent it to multiple clubs so I would never get it back. I later settled with the company for a portion of what they owed me (small claims limits kept it to about 1/5 of what was owed).
So, in July of 1998, I was jobless. I was also mentally, emotionally and spiritually bankrupt and uncertain of what I would do next. I had never had a second interview for which I was not hired, but in the next three months, I made it to 14 second interviews and the trail would go cold afterward. It turns out calling your boss an asshole, when he is really a Machiavellian prick, can hurt you. Dave went out of his way to try to ensure my suffering and to show how powerful he was. For a short while, it worked, but not for long. In the next month I made a threat against Paul when I talked to another manager one day. I felt he had personally betrayed me. I still don't know if he did and it doesn't really matter. Even if he had, I could blame it on no one but myself. I treated him so poorly, I can not really blame him for anything. Shortly after that threat, I received a 7 page nasty letter from Paul that was full of accusations and hatred. To say that the place had a negative effect on both of us is such an understatement. It took me almost a year to respond, but I needed the time to get my head on straight. My son, who wasn't quite two, fell down and broke his arm around the time I received the letter. My wife was just about to pop out our second child and I just didn't have it in me to care. I think somewhere inside, I knew it was at least 50% my fault that this relationship had soured (if not more)and I had just decided to let it go. I had a few old friends (Joe and Rob) who called to try to make me see the light, as it were, but I just had no interest and decided to go on with life.
We did two great parties in the first half of 1998. The first was a benefit for the Aids Relief Fund for Hair Professionals during the Long Beach Hair show which raised $87,000 for people who could not work in their field (hair) due to Aids or Aids-related issues. I have rarely felt better about working for a cause than I did on this party and it went off very well. All of our partners, all of our staff, and all of the organization, celebrities and all others did a great job putting this together. The transformation of the club into a formal ballroom was pretty impressive and helped us to sell the second big party. That party was during an electronics convention and was a $117,000 party which soon after would cause me huge problems with the corporation for whom I worked. The party went well and our net profit for the day was over $40,000. That is a pretty big number, but apparently it wasn't big enough.
After the party had ended, I received a call from my boss asking what I was going to do with the gratuity from the event. It was more than $20,000, and I told him that I was going to disburse it. To my surprise, he asked me why and I told him that the staff had worked hard all year and this was their reward. He asked where the company's reward was, so I gave him a pro forma (breakdown)showing the sizable profit the company was making for the day. He made me send him a sheet detailing every person's pay out from the gratuity, so I did. He then systematically cut every single person's tip except mine. I would like to think that he just thought the worst of me and was giving me more so I wouldn't raise a stink, but I think what he was really doing was sowing dissent with the staff. If I made a lot and everyone else did not, they would turn on me (and they did). In the end, the company kept $7000 of the gratuity. My wife was pregnant with our second child, so I was in no position to give back anything they weren't willing to take from me. Within two weeks, one of my employees called the company to claim I was doing something wrong.
The complaint was based on ignorance and fueled by my poor treatment and lack of trust for my staff. The complaint was that I was stealing door charge money. The fact was that I had an agreement with the President and VP of operations which allowed me to take a portion of the door money to pay back expenses I had used to build both the live music and the event business. Due to the fact that it showed the company having very little faith in my plan, I did not talk with the staff about my arrangement. To be honest, it wasn't any of their business, but the lack of transparency set me up to look like a bad guy and my boss used it to the fullest.
I had three conference calls per week at the job. I had to dial in from the Sprint phone at work and they were always scheduled at 1pm eastern, which was 10am pacific. Additionally, the company had a stated lack of trust in anyone to close the restaurant other than myself, so most nights, I got home between 3:30am and 5am. I worked a minimum of 6 days a week and was at the club on average 100 hours per week. I was tired, depressed, frustrated and demoralized. On June 30th, this came to a head on a conference call. The VP who usually ran the call was out and my boss (regional manager) was leading the call. It was a call that had absolutely nothing to do with my club. It was an hour long, mandatory call about features which my club did not have. Every time they came around to me in the round robin discussion, all I had to say was, "We don't have this in Long Beach." After about thirty minutes of this, my boss took another call and told us all to wait on the line. After 15 minutes of waiting, I hung up. 5 minutes later, I received a call from my boss asking if I just hung up on him (which I found to be ridiculous). I told him that since I had no input, I chose the least interrupting moment to withdraw from the conversation. Like a child, he hung up on me.
The next morning was my one day off. I received a call that Dave (my boss) was at the club and wanted to see me. This wasn't good and I knew it. I went to the club and Paul was upstairs, I asked if it was just me or were they closing down the club and he said he didn't know what I was talking about and Dave was in my office. Dave and I began to talk. His first shot was about the phone, it wasn't a reasonable shot so it passed quickly, I was right about not being needed on the phone. His next shot was about door charges, I reiterated that he knew I had an agreement to get back the expenses from live music equipment and event costs, he just said, "Really? Do you have that in writing?" He smiled a pretty evil little smile. Dave thought he was the king in this conversation, but to be honest whether he fired me or I quit, I knew I wasn't leaving the room with a job. His next hit was asking if I was calling him names or talking about him to the staff. I told him this was just silly, that yes I thought he was an asshole but I doubted I had shared that with a staff with whom I was not that close. That was when he said they would be separating me that day. To not leave the staff without equipment, I said I would pick up that for which I had not been reimbursed after the weekend. I later found out that the company dismantled my system and sent it to multiple clubs so I would never get it back. I later settled with the company for a portion of what they owed me (small claims limits kept it to about 1/5 of what was owed).
So, in July of 1998, I was jobless. I was also mentally, emotionally and spiritually bankrupt and uncertain of what I would do next. I had never had a second interview for which I was not hired, but in the next three months, I made it to 14 second interviews and the trail would go cold afterward. It turns out calling your boss an asshole, when he is really a Machiavellian prick, can hurt you. Dave went out of his way to try to ensure my suffering and to show how powerful he was. For a short while, it worked, but not for long. In the next month I made a threat against Paul when I talked to another manager one day. I felt he had personally betrayed me. I still don't know if he did and it doesn't really matter. Even if he had, I could blame it on no one but myself. I treated him so poorly, I can not really blame him for anything. Shortly after that threat, I received a 7 page nasty letter from Paul that was full of accusations and hatred. To say that the place had a negative effect on both of us is such an understatement. It took me almost a year to respond, but I needed the time to get my head on straight. My son, who wasn't quite two, fell down and broke his arm around the time I received the letter. My wife was just about to pop out our second child and I just didn't have it in me to care. I think somewhere inside, I knew it was at least 50% my fault that this relationship had soured (if not more)and I had just decided to let it go. I had a few old friends (Joe and Rob) who called to try to make me see the light, as it were, but I just had no interest and decided to go on with life.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Part 81, no joke!
On January 1st, 1997, Cathy and Zach and I moved to a little house one block from the beach in Long Beach CA. The area we lived in was fantastic, not that I would know as I spent every waking hour at the job. I swear I could not be more blessed that my son was not old enough to realize that he had an absentee father. At this point, work was generally not going well. Though the club had the same level of seediness which pervades all night clubs, this was my first club that did not have the added benefit of being about anything other than that icky seediness. There really was nothing good about the club, no real sales, no leadership from the company, a really crappy staff, roaches (yes indeed, it was disgusting) and a rebellious nature in the staff. They hated me for having a hand in firing their friend, my predecessor and I didn't help things because I disliked them almost as much as they disliked me.
In late January, I terminated our event sales manager, adding to some people's feeling that I was a megalomaniac. It did not help that I hired one the least friendly people I have ever met. I also hired a drunken fool and mentally unstable man as my assistant. He quit one night after I had to come back to his crying in a corner about nothing in particular. During the summer of 1997, I was called in to inform me that our safe had been emptied. The company refused to investigate because it would increase our insurance premiums, but there was some thought amongst the higher-ups that I had some part in it. For the record, I did not. I wanted the investigation just to clear my name, but the company refused and I began looking for another job. I was, in fact, offered a job as a GM of a local Brewery and restaurant in August, but I was tricked into believing that the company would finally let me get away from the night club biz and get into real event sales. I saw this as a real positive for the company and they seemed to agree. To motivate me, the company told me that if I spent my own money to increase business, I could refund that money from door charges and tips from events. The business had only ever done $45,000 annually in events and I saw a much bigger potential, some of which we were already seeing. By the end of 1997, we had built event sales to $455,000. The next year, through the efforts of an old friend, we were slated to do $750,000+. During this time, I really lost my way, my ethics, my soul.
In the fall of 1997, my old friend Paul called me. He was looking to learn about event sales, and knew that I had a lot of experience in it. He asked if he could learn from me and, instead, I offered him the vacant position of Event Sales Manager. He asked for help learning, and I put him in charge of all of our sales. While I write this, that seems so ridiculous, but he was really good at it and it turned out in most ways to be the best decision I made while at the club. I didn't know it at the time, but in retrospect, I had ulterior motives. Paul, like most of my friends from my early Christian experience, was someone who I didn't think thought very highly of me. This was the person I called my best friend, and the best man in my wedding, but was someone whose motives and judgments I distrusted greatly. To me, hiring Paul was a good decision for business reasons (I knew he would be good at it for many qualities that he naturally has), but I would not be honest if I did not admit that I wanted him to value me. I think somewhere in my addled brain, I believed that I could prove my worth to him if he worked for me and could somehow control his perception through the context of the new work relationship. One can see from just this paragraph that my perception was skewed, he had called me to ask me for help in learning something and I still believed he did not value me.
In addition to the event business, we began a live music schedule. We had some truly awesome bands, and some really horrible ones. I became that hideous thing in biopics and musician auto-biographies, a club manager. I will save the stories for a book, should I ever write one, but there were numerous ones of me just being an asshole. In fairness, I was dealing with assholes also, but it is no excuse for my behavior. Additionally, at our Christmas party, I almost had an affair with one of our bartenders, which would have made me a huge cliche. I was falling apart, not standing up for anything I believed in. I got fat, never saw my family, was lonely, depressed, angry, nasty and bitter. If you think I am not fun now, you should have known me for the nearly two years I worked at this club. It destroyed me.
In late January, I terminated our event sales manager, adding to some people's feeling that I was a megalomaniac. It did not help that I hired one the least friendly people I have ever met. I also hired a drunken fool and mentally unstable man as my assistant. He quit one night after I had to come back to his crying in a corner about nothing in particular. During the summer of 1997, I was called in to inform me that our safe had been emptied. The company refused to investigate because it would increase our insurance premiums, but there was some thought amongst the higher-ups that I had some part in it. For the record, I did not. I wanted the investigation just to clear my name, but the company refused and I began looking for another job. I was, in fact, offered a job as a GM of a local Brewery and restaurant in August, but I was tricked into believing that the company would finally let me get away from the night club biz and get into real event sales. I saw this as a real positive for the company and they seemed to agree. To motivate me, the company told me that if I spent my own money to increase business, I could refund that money from door charges and tips from events. The business had only ever done $45,000 annually in events and I saw a much bigger potential, some of which we were already seeing. By the end of 1997, we had built event sales to $455,000. The next year, through the efforts of an old friend, we were slated to do $750,000+. During this time, I really lost my way, my ethics, my soul.
In the fall of 1997, my old friend Paul called me. He was looking to learn about event sales, and knew that I had a lot of experience in it. He asked if he could learn from me and, instead, I offered him the vacant position of Event Sales Manager. He asked for help learning, and I put him in charge of all of our sales. While I write this, that seems so ridiculous, but he was really good at it and it turned out in most ways to be the best decision I made while at the club. I didn't know it at the time, but in retrospect, I had ulterior motives. Paul, like most of my friends from my early Christian experience, was someone who I didn't think thought very highly of me. This was the person I called my best friend, and the best man in my wedding, but was someone whose motives and judgments I distrusted greatly. To me, hiring Paul was a good decision for business reasons (I knew he would be good at it for many qualities that he naturally has), but I would not be honest if I did not admit that I wanted him to value me. I think somewhere in my addled brain, I believed that I could prove my worth to him if he worked for me and could somehow control his perception through the context of the new work relationship. One can see from just this paragraph that my perception was skewed, he had called me to ask me for help in learning something and I still believed he did not value me.
In addition to the event business, we began a live music schedule. We had some truly awesome bands, and some really horrible ones. I became that hideous thing in biopics and musician auto-biographies, a club manager. I will save the stories for a book, should I ever write one, but there were numerous ones of me just being an asshole. In fairness, I was dealing with assholes also, but it is no excuse for my behavior. Additionally, at our Christmas party, I almost had an affair with one of our bartenders, which would have made me a huge cliche. I was falling apart, not standing up for anything I believed in. I got fat, never saw my family, was lonely, depressed, angry, nasty and bitter. If you think I am not fun now, you should have known me for the nearly two years I worked at this club. It destroyed me.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
a difficult time of my life
To be honest, I can't wait to be done with the autobiographical part of the blog. It is the thing that most keeps me from writing. I feel that I need to get at least close to the present, but I am heading into a very difficult time for me in the story. I knew when I started that I would hurt some people's feelings, but felt that being honest was far more important. You will have to decide for yourself whether you value honesty over taking care of people's emotions, but I have made the choice to tell my truth.
"Tell my truth" is a funny statement, but I mean just that. This is what I remember, these were my feelings. Some of them are not fun to write out. Some of those are coming up and may hurt some of you who read this. It is not my intent to harm anyone, but the truth of my perspective may do just that. It clearly already has in some instances of friends and family who have read the words contained within this blog and vowed to never speak to me again. I accept this verdict, this judgment, this condemnation because what I write is what I really think. I am truly sorry if I have or do hurt someone in the future. Please feel free to rip me in comments and I will post them, so long as they do not detract from the story (get off topic) and so long as they are responses and not the kind of crap my cousin tried to write. If you wish to tell your side, feel free to respond, I don't mind attacks but make them based on what was written. If you want to attack me in general, get your own blog.
On that note, and because rumor has it that my idiot uncle has read these stories, writing a blog lends no credence to one's point of view. My idiot uncle chooses to attack with baseless allegations anyone he can. I have told others not to respond as it gives him a stage. So far he has not commented much about me, but if you are reading this Charley (Charles is your real name, not the bullshit you tell others), bring it.
Okay I am off of that rant and back to the pages of this story. I will try to be more diligent so I can finish it.
"Tell my truth" is a funny statement, but I mean just that. This is what I remember, these were my feelings. Some of them are not fun to write out. Some of those are coming up and may hurt some of you who read this. It is not my intent to harm anyone, but the truth of my perspective may do just that. It clearly already has in some instances of friends and family who have read the words contained within this blog and vowed to never speak to me again. I accept this verdict, this judgment, this condemnation because what I write is what I really think. I am truly sorry if I have or do hurt someone in the future. Please feel free to rip me in comments and I will post them, so long as they do not detract from the story (get off topic) and so long as they are responses and not the kind of crap my cousin tried to write. If you wish to tell your side, feel free to respond, I don't mind attacks but make them based on what was written. If you want to attack me in general, get your own blog.
On that note, and because rumor has it that my idiot uncle has read these stories, writing a blog lends no credence to one's point of view. My idiot uncle chooses to attack with baseless allegations anyone he can. I have told others not to respond as it gives him a stage. So far he has not commented much about me, but if you are reading this Charley (Charles is your real name, not the bullshit you tell others), bring it.
Okay I am off of that rant and back to the pages of this story. I will try to be more diligent so I can finish it.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Part 80
I was strung along by Philip for a few months, but by the end of the second month, the handwriting was on the wall. I was taking unemployment for the first time in my life and searching for the right spot to be a GM. I had pretty much given up on acting, though I still occasionally would act in something a friend would call about. My brother was running another restaurant company and had hired my former assistant and book keeper, Lisa, as his GM at an upscale Mexican restaurant called Rebecca's in Venice. They both asked if I would be willing to Maitre D' on the weekends for cash payment and tips. I agreed and soon was making $600 per week for working about 12 hours. There is something wrong with me that this was not good enough for me.
Cathy's pregnancy was clipping along and everything was going well. I continued to write but found myself in the same position of getting tired of my own writing and throwing things away before I finished them. This was a difficult time because I really wanted to be hired as a GM, though I never had been hired directly as a GM (Always promoted). A few months into this, and with my first born child's arrival rapidly approaching, I began looking at club jobs too. In September 1996, I began the interview process with a club in Long Beach called Jillian's. I had never spent any time in Long Beach and only knew the club because my predecessor at Renaissance had been their opening GM. They hired me as a "fast track" manager, colorful euphemism in the restaurant business which means "we don't like our GM, but don't know or trust you yet." They paid me $22,000 less than I had made in my previous job and less than I was making at Rebecca's, but the good news was they would over work me!
On October 16th, 1996, my wife delivered our son into the world. At 11 lbs 11 oz, he was a gigantic baby and a sight to behold. One week later, I began as the Operations Manager at Jillian's in Long Beach. It took no time at all to realize that the existing GM was unqualified, inexperienced and an easy mark. I tried to be nice about it, but I immediately worked to usurp his position. Jillian's was also all of the ick of the club business without any of the fun. I was working an average of 70 hours per week and driving an hour each way to work. I was basically an absent father for my son's early life and am thrilled that I was (and am) married to such a strong, loving, caring and wonderful person who gave him everything he needed in those first months (really about two years). On December 18th 1996, the company fired the GM and promoted me. It immediately went downhill. The existing staff hated me for usurping their friend and former boss and new employees were untrustworthy and soured by the existing staff. 1996 ended with promise, or at least perceived promise and a decision to move to the area to at least cut down my drive time.
Cathy's pregnancy was clipping along and everything was going well. I continued to write but found myself in the same position of getting tired of my own writing and throwing things away before I finished them. This was a difficult time because I really wanted to be hired as a GM, though I never had been hired directly as a GM (Always promoted). A few months into this, and with my first born child's arrival rapidly approaching, I began looking at club jobs too. In September 1996, I began the interview process with a club in Long Beach called Jillian's. I had never spent any time in Long Beach and only knew the club because my predecessor at Renaissance had been their opening GM. They hired me as a "fast track" manager, colorful euphemism in the restaurant business which means "we don't like our GM, but don't know or trust you yet." They paid me $22,000 less than I had made in my previous job and less than I was making at Rebecca's, but the good news was they would over work me!
On October 16th, 1996, my wife delivered our son into the world. At 11 lbs 11 oz, he was a gigantic baby and a sight to behold. One week later, I began as the Operations Manager at Jillian's in Long Beach. It took no time at all to realize that the existing GM was unqualified, inexperienced and an easy mark. I tried to be nice about it, but I immediately worked to usurp his position. Jillian's was also all of the ick of the club business without any of the fun. I was working an average of 70 hours per week and driving an hour each way to work. I was basically an absent father for my son's early life and am thrilled that I was (and am) married to such a strong, loving, caring and wonderful person who gave him everything he needed in those first months (really about two years). On December 18th 1996, the company fired the GM and promoted me. It immediately went downhill. The existing staff hated me for usurping their friend and former boss and new employees were untrustworthy and soured by the existing staff. 1996 ended with promise, or at least perceived promise and a decision to move to the area to at least cut down my drive time.
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