Tuesday 3 December 2013

Buying a restaurant (part 2)

Doubt and being doubted has always annoyed me. If you ever need to motivate me or get me to achieve something just tell me that it can't be done, or more specifically it can't be done by me! It lights a little fire in my belly you see, sets me thinking and sets me fighting. 'Sorry Mr Freer but you'll never play football again, you're back won't take the strain', yeah that'll do it. 'You'll never make anything of yourself academically as your attitude stinks' (Mr Barclay, Campion high school), grrr one of our attitudes stink Mr B, go look in that mirror and check whose! And our current doubter: 'buy the restaurant, hahaha, but you're the dishwasher', a red rag to a bull if ever there was one! 

It's weird where we find motivation and stranger still how a mind works. We're all different but we're all people and this is where I get a bit (okay, a lot) ranty but when I meet someone I really don't judge them on appearance or on what job they're doing. Everyone should be a blank sheet of paper when you meet them and as soon as they start talking you start filling in the paper with fact and not presumption.

I've had some shitty jobs, Maccy D's, Tesco's, window cleaner, dishwasher to name a few but does that make me a lesser person in any way before you even speak to me. It winds me up in all forms of discrimination too, the elderly presumed to be senile and forever ignored when there is so much we should be learning from our elders. Disabled people, just because you're in a wheelchair doesn't mean you're fucking stupid, deaf, blind, mentally impaired... Racism too, so many preconceived ideas on people of different nationalities purely based on their nationality... talk to them for fucks sake!!!! Yes there are idiots who are old but there are young ones too, ones in a wheelchair, ones not. Idiots from Romania, Nigeria and just as often England. If you take the time to find out about the person there's a whole world of knowledge to be learned and friendships to be made. If you just open your eyes and see 'person' every time you look at someone, not old, not black, not white, not disabled,  just PERSON! ... Okay, I'm calm again now, had a little moment there but we should probably get back to the story!

The contracts are all drawn up. I'm sat in the solicitors office with a cheque in my hand and I'm ready to hand it over. I got it through from my aunt last week, took it into the bank and had a meeting with the manager which went pretty well considering my credit history! They gave me a business account and everything is set for me taking over. As I paid the cheque into my new account I noticed that the cashier was writing 200 pounds on the slip, she blushed and apologised when I pointed out she'd missed 2 zeroes off the deposit! More preconceived presumption by her and I was even dressed in my best clothes! 

In the solicitors the talking is done, the agreements agreed and we sign the contracts. I walk out with a set of keys and I'm the proud owner of Yr Ogof Bistro in Harlech, I feel pretty good to be honest but then I don't yet know that the work is only just beginning and the stress that I thought I'd had is nothing compared to the minefield that is waiting.

I have 3 lives so to speak, well more than that in reality but if I miss 3 consecutive monthly mortgage payments I am in default and will lose the restaurant. There's so much to take in, VAT, PAYE, Stamp duty land tax all to be paid. Then there's my suppliers, wet, dry, fruit n veg, meat and frozen. There's the itinerary of what I'm buying, and there's a 3 bedroom flat included that's occupied with friends of mine at the moment. There's staffing and the levels of turnover that wages should cost and whether to keep on the chef. There's the kitchen which is desperately in need of a refit and new equipment. We need a new dishwasher as the old one has just got a promotion! So much.

I'm basically starting without a bean too which is never ideal. I've got 30 days according to my calculations as the suppliers won't worry about supplying until their first bill is sent. My inheritance is exactly 20 grand, my deposit is exactly 20 grand and so for anything else it's gotta be earned before I can spend it. All of the bills that are coming in the first month are going to have to be prioritised, with wages at number one and food at number two, I'll work down and through the rest from that point. 

We're on a wing and a prayer as I try to fudge together a staff meeting and organise a work rota, re do the faded and aged menus, get hold of the wine merchant who was supposed to be here 2 hours ago, my steaks haven't arrived either and the chef has had a paddy and gone for an hour off. 

It's opening weekend ahead and we're getting there, the place looks presentable, staffing has proved suprisingly easy even though one waitress was especially surprised by my phone call! People are happy for me but worried that i'll fuck it up and who can blame them for that. We've only made slight alterations to anything as old Huw had a winning formula going and just lacked the time and energy to continue with it so there's no major changes, no mending as such to be done.

The annoying thing with anything that you do in life is that given hindsight, given the knowledge earned in any venture or adventure undertaken you can see the mistakes you made. You can see where you went wrong and where you went right and you just wish the knowledge had been there earlier. Right now though I'm oblivious to the errors I'm making, deciding this and judging that using all the wisdom I have at 24 years of age and I'm loving it.

I brew a coffee on my coffee machine, sit down on my bench and light a ciggy, glance into my kitchen and around at my tables, pondering what improvements I can make to my restaurant, I look out of the window at someone parking in my car park and it's sweet this feeling, really sweet.

The phone rings for the 100th time that day. I'm on my own in the restaurant as all the doers are doing and all the well wishers have already wished me well and I'm suprised when it's the University. It hadn't been on my mind at all with so much going on since my final two exams but the faculty office have news for me. 

I make her say it twice as it just doesn't compute the first time around. "It's a 2:1 Roy, you got a 2:1, we do hope you'll be able to attend the awards ceremony", I'm literally speechless but manage a garbled "thanks" as I replace the receiver. I drop to my knees, behind my newly purchased bar. I sit there, bouncing on my haunches, absolutely ecstatic and yet flabbergasted that I've done it. I'd already accepted the 2:2 in my mind and taken the restaurant as a consolation but no, what a week, and as Del boy would say: 'I've only gone and bloody done it'!