What does defeat feel like?

What does defeat feel like?

I worked for over two years to get Rockhound open. I left my stable corporate job of over 12 years. I put in a lot personal cash my wife and I had saved for a good while. I negotiated contracts. I approached a lot of banks and investors and got a LOT of “no” answers. Inevitably, my perseverance paid off, though. I worked with one credit union, two non-profit entities, five private investors, and five loan cosigners who were willing to take a chance on me for some profit share. I worked through adjustments during construction. I hired good people to help open it. Friends and family helped with sweat equity. I put together operational plans and goals. I did it. I opened a business and was ready to run it for years to come and make an honest, hard working living, give back to the community, and reward my investors for their confidence in me and my abilities.

The year Rockhound opened, we lost over $100,000, based on what the accounting documents supplied. That was a lot of money. But it was the first year. I may have panicked a little. I just started a business and already lost enough to buy a couple of nice new cars. Is this what defeat feels like? I immediately took that information and made changes and implemented new policies, and reduced expenses where appropriate to get it back on the right track. And it worked, overall. I was not defeated.

A few years later, in late fall of 2018, Rockhound was burglarized. The perpetrators made off with a decent amount of cash, and caused some notable damage to get at the office and safe. I’d lost a decent amount of money, when I didn’t even have that much to begin with. Is this what defeat feels like? That day, we didn’t even miss an hour of being open. I got my staff money for the day by getting change from a bar owner friend, as it was Sunday and banks were closed. We shored up things, and started immediate security improvements. I was not defeated.

Less than 6 weeks after that, Rockhound was burglarized again. It was an amazing feat of timing and resolve on the part of the perpetrators. They bypassed or muscled through new security measures, and happened to catch “bad timing” on my part with other upgrades that weren’t yet in place. The damage was much greater and the cost much higher, despite the cash take being much lower. Is this what defeat feels like? We picked up the pieces, and again, didn’t miss a day of business. We greatly intensified security, and finished the upgrades we’d started. But we kept going. I was not defeated.

The following year the industry was getting very tight, profit margins even slimmer, and some of our products and services just weren’t profitable. We were losing cash very quickly again. Is this what defeat feels like? Difficult business decisions needed to be made. In the fall of 2019, we eliminated brunch, and closed on Mondays. I negotiated and restructured every loan Rockhound had, to lower payments. We found operational efficiencies and were able to trim down the menu to higher quality items with less waste to lower cost of food. We turned a profit in February 2020. I was not defeated.

Then March 2020 came and so did COVID-19. We were mandated to close down and do carryout only. I had to lay off 21 of my 23 staff members. We were absolute bare bones operations. Revenue dropped to 15-20% of what it was the prior year. Is this what defeat feels like? We quickly changed directions and did takeout and delivery, making sure we had desirable specials. We got a new online ordering system to go completely contactless. After a few months, we were able to open back up for inhouse dining. We made sure we had new, thorough safety procedures. We talked about them and lived them. Doing everything we could to keep moving. I was not defeated.

But, financially, it wasn’t working. Despite great help from our patrons, excellent work by staff, and even government loans that didn’t need to be repaid. We’d lost more than twice as much as that first year and, it wasn’t working. We needed to close. Is this what defeat feels like? When the decision was inevitable, I elected to close Rockhound gracefully. Not just running out of money and running away. I personally contacted every investor and loan provider to let them know. I personally brewed one last beer and named it “Last Call.” I told my staff, up front, personally. Then I announced it to the public, personally. We followed through with our plan and ran specials from our past and closed the kitchen on November 14th. We sold beer as long as we could. On December 12th, we said one final goodbye and closed. Permanently. But I did it my way. With class and grace. I AM not defeated.

What does defeat feel like?