Two years ago a friend on Facebook, a
guy I never met who lives on the East Coast, contacted me through Facebook’s
chat function with an “amazing opportunity” and because he “couldn’t sleep at
night” he wanted to “share this once-in-a-lifetime chance” with a “real
go-getter.”
I
guess I was the go-getter.
He
explained to me that the grand prize for the person who could sell the most
within the parameters of this “opportunity” was a brand new BMW.
“Who
wouldn’t want to own a BMW???” he typed emphatically.
“Well,”
I began, “just last week I bought a BMW, a slightly used X5.” I explained some of the features: a sleek merino leather interior and a really
cool moon roof that I can open up while cruising north on the Pacific Highway
pretending to be in a Mr. Mister video.
I
don’t remember the exact words he used, but his response to my enthusiasm was a
comment along the lines of “Well, la-dee-dah.”
I didn’t expect this, of course.
If anyone is excited about their new car purchase and talks to me about
it, I am happy for them, I don’t scorn them.
I don’t feel any sort of envy in situations like this. I actually find that when people upgrade
their cars or their homes I tend to feel inspired. My Italian immigrant grandfather used to say,
“Quando il sole splende, il sole splende per tutti,” That phrase translates to this: “When the sun
shines, the sun shines for everybody.”
If someone can work hard and buy something nice, then I can, too.
My
life was not always that of the entrepreneur with the cool German car living a
shorts-based existence in beachy southern California. Truth be told, for most of the time I have
owned my company, it has been a struggle.
It’s taken me a lot of work to get to where I am now. I know that most people refuse to look at the
work involved and glamorize the life of people who start their own businesses. I suppose this comes from seeing too many
informercials promising that you, too, can be sipping mai tais in Fiji while
your business runs itself, or the latter-day equivalent: the YouTube ad with the guy who claims that
if you read a book a day you can start your own business, tool around in an
Italian sports car all day and live in a (rented) mansion full of tacky décor
(just click your mouse and transfer some cash for the “secrets”).
I
constantly remind myself of a time many Junes ago in hot Phoenix when I was
staring down at a bleak summer after a somewhat mediocre holiday season and
spring. I owned a retail store then and
I knew that for the next 3 months traffic would be way down inside my store
because people would be either hiding under rocks or heading to San Diego to
get out of the heat, anything but driving around that hellish metropolis to go
shopping. So, with credit cards at their
limits and very little cash in the bank and not yet having proved my
credit-worthiness to qualify for a line of credit with my bank, I sat down at
my kitchen table to budget out the summer.
I used estimates on sales and worked with what little money I had
left. Part of this budget included spending
$90 for the MONTH on food. In order
for everything to work I had to spend no more than $3 a day on food. Yes, this was in the United States. Could I do it?
I
found creative ways to stretch my food dollars.
I discovered the ethnic grocery stores – Mexican and Vietnamese – that
sold the basics in bulk for less than any “big box” store. They also received the second-rate produce
that was not up to the chain store standards.
Tomatoes were three pounds for a dollar.
Lettuce was fifty cents per head.
Meats were cheaper at the Mexican places and fish was cheaper at the
Vietnamese places. I was also introduced
to new foods at these stores. At Loi Nam
Grocery I will never forget the delight on the face of an Asian man in his 80s
when a worker at the store dumped out a crate of what looked like a type of
tomato. The old man was so happy, smiling
broadly and muttering ecstatic phrases to himself in his own language. I had to ask what these things were. His daughter who could speak some English
told me they were a certain type of persimmon found in Vietnam and Laos. I bought some. They were cheap and I had to see what all the
fuss was about. It was that June I
learned to appreciate the small joys in discovering a new fruit.
I
had a small plastic container in my kitchen for my food money. When the calendar ground to the end of June I
found that I had 83 cents left in this container. 83 cents!
I survived on 3 bucks a day for food and had money left over. I did it.
Yay!
I wanted to shout my victory from the rooftops. I told some customers about what I did. Most people reacted in the opposite way of how I felt. One older lady looked at me gravely and tears swelled up in her eyes. “I never knew things were so bad for you,” she said quietly. I didn’t share this sadness. I felt like I had accomplished something massive.
I wanted to shout my victory from the rooftops. I told some customers about what I did. Most people reacted in the opposite way of how I felt. One older lady looked at me gravely and tears swelled up in her eyes. “I never knew things were so bad for you,” she said quietly. I didn’t share this sadness. I felt like I had accomplished something massive.
Most
people don’t know this story of mine. While
I feel those days are far behind me I know full well that things could go back to this – for me or for
anyone else – and I am fine with knowing I could do what it takes to make do
with what I have. What I wrote here was
not meant to garner any sort of sympathy or to engender feelings of any sort,
good or bad. I would only ask that when
I do buy that beach house overlooking the Pacific that you please keep in mind
my $3-a-day struggle and just be happy for me.
