Owning a retail shop, never mind one of an adult nature, can be akin to walking a tightrope between the Twin Towers after the planes have hit. Think of yourselves as the towers, the customers as the ambulances waiting 110 stories below and those molten beams torched by the explosions as everything between you and success. Sure, you might be able to navigate your way down the fiery stairways to those customers and stay alive/in business; but between the economy's overall health, tax collectors, insurance vultures, bloodsucking landlords and pesky competitors, you might be tempted to take that flying leap instead and cut your losses. That last boss wasn't so bad after all, especially compared to the worthless employee who helped himself to a little extra cash or an extra few choice items via his friend's shopping bag.
And yet, we soldier on, if for no other reason than that doing so prevents us from toiling away for some idiotic manager or manipulative owner, content that the so-called "freedom" (don't lie, we've all used that magic word) we have to forge our own paths somehow overcomes the endless hours, constant battles making ends meet and unending expenses that materialize as if guided by an unseen hand to fuck us just when we think we have a few bucks to tune up the car or buy groceries. Thank God for credit cards and their 21% annual extortion fees to keep our tanks filled and food on our tables. But we have freedom, dammit!
This is not, however, a complaint column so much as an acknowledgement to our fellow small businessmen that, hey, brothers, we know what it's like. When the interminable month of August just won't go away and we're checking our web stores every five minutes hoping to see that $400 order pop in from Arkansas, we're sweating right alongside you. Vacations are for pussies. Anyway, the fact we haven't had one in over five years is simply time served until we get rich and take the rest of our lives off, right? Right?
But I digress. Instead, let's focus on a tidbit of advice to help you through those bouts with depression and the prospect of working under the oppressive thumb of Wal-Mart. In this case, the time in every small businessperson's life when the bills are piled higher than a Canter's club sandwich and the sound of the phone ringing causes cold sweats to break out. The net 15s are now overdue 90s, while Visa has become your savior on everything from mortgage payments and/or rent to staples and Big Macs. Caller ID is the one thing keeping you sane, though you're probably avoiding any numbers you don't recognize and ignoring those pesky "Private Caller" assaults (yeah, like they think they can get to us that easily).
Some years back, when I failed miserably in another business venture, I came upon a drawer piled high with invoices and threat letters that had me searching for plane flights to the Caribbean, hoping to find refuge among the drug dealers and criminals in the mythical tropics I was sure would shelter me. The State of California had frozen my bank accounts for back sales taxes - and assured me by certified letter that they'd be pouncing on any new ones I might try to open up - and a daunting army of various other creditors were threatening me with collections, lawsuits and broken legs. AT&T was even bold enough to send a representative to my business to "remind" me of my past due $3000.
In a panic, I shut the doors, closed the business down, sold my car and began making phone calls to each creditor to see what could be done to stave off homelessness.
And you know what? They were remarkably accommodating. Well, not everyone, exactly; the State of California couldn't care less about me living in the street (I sold the trusty Integra to get rid of that debt), but everyone else was sincerely helpful in resolving my business collapse. That three grand AT&T wanted? Whittled down to $300. The $8,000 American Express bill? Could I pay 15 bucks a month and pay more when I was back on my feet? Even the IRS was reasonable (penalties waived, the principal halved and a monthly payment plan established).
Sure, the bankruptcy laws were more lenient, but the point about moving actively to address distress still applies. Which brings me 15 years forward to this past summer, when the doors were perilously close to shutting when we'd gotten behind on our invoices. Rather than avoid, we met the challenges head on, calling each distributor to ask for a little understanding when the alternative would've been to have them choke off our access to products, effectively halting our ability to do business. By calling the owners of our distribution companies, we bought ourselves precious time to regroup, cut expenses (unfortunately we had to cut a couple of employees) and direct the few dollars we had toward their bills. The mere fact we sent them something made all the difference and actually solidified these relationships once we'd caught up.
Now on more firm financial ground, we trudge onward to fight another day and move one step closer to that overdue vacation.
GayVN
- By
