I don’t usually write because I want to. It’s a kind of
pressure release mechanism. When I see enough things that I think are
noteworthy, I weave them all into a blog and post it. Hopefully the contents
don’t get me arrested. Ladies and gentlemen, I am writing this blog for you
today because I have seen some things in the past few weeks.
For the first time in my life, I am working for myself. I
have always been really good at focusing on a singular task, while someone else
ensures the trains generally run on time. I no longer have the luxury of
someone else watching over me. I am pulling wires out of my brain and
rearranging them so that I might become the organized, proactive person I never
was.
This new job is exhilarating. That’s a word that encapsulates
fear and excitement happening concurrently. I like wine a lot. But I love
talking to people about it. I knew I loved selling wine to people, to guests on
a dining room floor. Now my path has taken on new dimension. I am selling wine
to other wine buyers and salespeople.
Selling wine in retail is different from selling wine on a
restaurant floor. On the floor, you get to see the guest taste the wine, and if
you did your job, theirs eyes get wide and they tell you they love it. Retail
deprives you of that moment of joy from the guest. I’ve had the discussion with
people like Antonio Gianola- we like that validation, and we miss it when it’s
gone. Since I left the floor at Ox, I have been hunting for that moment.
About 2 weeks ago, I held my first staff training class for
a client. Easy enough, but the twist was the entire staff spoke English as
their second language. The owner told me, “You talk fast and you use a lot of
big words. Don’t talk like that in front of the staff. Talk very slowly, and I
may ask you to stop from time to time so I can translate.” Nice. If I talk too
fast I’ll lose them, and if I talk too slowly, I’ll worry they think I’m being
condescending. I could not be more desperate to gain the trust of these
incredibly nice people, because my destiny is now linked with theirs.
Watching people try IPA for the first time is a trip.
Everybody’s face twists in agony as they experience the bitterness, and they’re
turning angry eyes towards me, like I tricked them into trying this beer that
sets off the evolutionary alarm bell for poison. Stammering and gesturing wildly,
I defend myself, “Now try it with the food! Quick!” They reach for the food and
chew, suddenly everybody’s expressions lighten. One server blurts out
excitedly, “I hate the IPA less with the food!” I pound the table with my fist,
causing the lazy susan to tremble, “Hate it less! I’ll take it! I told you IPA
would work!” We’re all laughing hysterically. All I can think to myself is oh my god, this is actually working.
The gangly one next to me is grinning with the bottle of IPA
in his hand. “You like the pairing?” I ask. He’s searching for the words, and
his emphasis is wonderful, “This beer is... baDASS!” I ask him if he wants
more, and he politely refuses. Later after class is done around midnight, he
walks up to me and says, “I sorry I not drink very much. I only have driver’s
permit. No driver license. Zero tolerance if pull over.” Then it dawns on me: I
just taught a 15 year old about pairing hoppy beer with spicy food. I also
introduced the staff to their new favorite drink: Hefeweizen. As for the wine
program? The staff unanimously agreed that Riesling was the best pairing with
the food, and my wine geek heart swelled with pride.
A dull panic grips me these days as I move my carefully
sourced funds around, and watch them begin to shrink. But a roomful of
heartfelt thank-yous after my first wine class broke my heart, and made me
forget every ounce of stress this job has created. This is the only thing that
could possibly supplant the validation I got from the guest. That feeling that
I did something pure and wholesome, not for money but for the sake of making
the world a better place for my favorite drink. This is what got me through the
punishing 15 hour days in the beginning weeks of Oxheart. I have rediscovered
my validation from a bizarre and wonderful source: my consulting clients.
I worry that maybe my master plan won’t work, that it’s all
going to blow up in my face. Then I get a text from a beer rep, “Hey man! [Horizon
Firestorm] reordered three cases of wheat and one case of IPA today.” I’m
cheering to myself in my truck as I race back to Montrose. Across town, I’m
sitting down with another client, showing them that a more prestigious wine
producer that has a more delicious wine than the restaurant’s current selection
that is actually cheaper. I’m helping
them design an inventory spreadsheet that lets them analyze their cost of goods
with surgical precision. I’m especially fond of showing people how to make more
money with their existing program (in a way that doesn’t screw over the guest!).
The empty space between client meetings is filled with video
brainstorming. How do we teach something that isn’t common knowledge, but make
it fun to watch? This is a much more daunting task to me than writing a wine
list. Many of our videos are shot in a single take, which means onlookers get
to see me repeat a monologue about twenty times before I get it right (even
then, I’m still looking slightly awkward). Clayton doesn’t have years of formal
video editing or camera job experience, but I am floored by his ability to pick
up any technical subject and master it in a matter of weeks. His
custom-designed, battery-powered wireless audio setup is a marvel of
engineering. I can tell he’s slightly annoyed that he hasn’t gotten to use any
special effects yet (like green screen technology, helicopter mounted cameras,
or slow motion). Let me assure you that when we’ve mastered our content, we
will flex our technical muscles. God help me, Clayton is probably designing a
bullet-time camera setup as I write this.
Many people have helped me along the way. As I said before,
I am a massively disorganized person, and the fact that I even have the minimal
framework of a company to announce is thanks to a lot of people. The following
is a list of the people who are not formally listed on our website as
collaborators.
-Thanks to Jay Rascoe for designing my first logo for me.
Ultimately I let Matthew Tabor create our final logo, which is featured on the
website. However Jay’s logo was a major catalyst for me actually visualizing
the company, and not thinking of it as some far-away goal. More than that, Jay has always encouraged me
when I was self-conscious about my writing on Weapons Grade and now Battlesong.
I would like to take this moment to encourage him in a similar fashion: Jay,
you had better keep writing, because you are one of the funniest writers I’ve
ever met. You could probably create an HBO series around all the insane stuff
you’ve seen, and I insist you share it with the world. Jay’s blog is http://www.gunsandtacos.com/ You should
read it.
-Thanks to Bob and Paige Martin. Bob and Paige are some of
the most hardcore Oxheart fans ever. When I told them my ridiculous plans, they
immediately helped me secure my domain name, and confirmed that I could indeed
create an LCC named “PSA Wines”. Bob has created numerous businesses, and he
helped me set up the initial framework of PSA WAY faster than I could have on
my own. Beyond the actual help they have given me, they have been cheerleaders
for every project Justin, Karen, and I have even remotely been involved in.
More than THAT, they’re a frustratingly perfect and picturesque power couple
that radiates positive energy like exposed plutonium reactor rods. No
seriously, downtown magazine named them in a list of badass power couples:
Also, Paige Martin is a relator in the same way that a
member of SEAL Team 6 is a soldier. If you are looking at property downtown,
you’d be crazy not to reach out to her:
-Finally, thanks to Justin and Karen at Oxheart. They have
supported me immensely as friends and as bosses. They have lent me critical
support in helping me create the framework of PSA, and then the logistical
knowhow to execute it, respectively.
It’s probably too early to start thanking people, but I am
already getting something amazing out of this. Thanks to everyone for helping
me create my dream job out of thin air.
If you’re still reading, it means that you’ve learned well
from certain movies to stick around after the credits, to catch a glimpse of a
critical piece of spoiler information. So here it is: On Friday, May 31st,
PSA will reveal our first restaurant client. It’s a doozy.
Love you Houston,
-Justin Vann
