Reflection After 3 Weeks

I learn by doing. I know this about myself.

The first day we opened, my goal was to breathe and make it through the day. I was worried that no one would show up. I was afraid that everyone would show up. My hope was for something in between - and that's exactly what happened. It was perfect. All the hard work we've all put into this place is refelcted in the smiles I see when people come in for the first time.

Clint and Burg at the end of Week 1

To be clear, when I say "all the hard work we've put into this place", I mean me, Clint, but also:

Our friends and neighbors who have been supportive, and were guinea pigs, sounding boards, and worker bees;

The artists whose art hangs on the walls and the front window;

McKenna who has made a really good-looking website;

People who read this blog and then came in already knowing something about me and the shop;

People who follow the shop on Facebook and Instagram and have told other people about it;

Business owners in Old Town Petersburg as well as Richmond who have been amazing cheerleaders,

My wine distributors who played a long game and hung in there for over a year until I finally placed my first order;

Those of you who found furniture for the shop;

Everyone who brought in books;

My staff who are on the payroll and the ones waiting to start;

The team who did the initial build out;

and the City employees, Health department agents and employees, and ABC agents who got me through all the damned hoops.

It takes more than just one clown to put on a circus.

By the end of the first week, I had already made a plan to make big necessary tweaks and put into motion phases that would lead to rebranding and a (soon-ish) grand opening. My ideas for what need to happen woke me up at 3 AM that Sunday. By 5 AM when Clint came downstairs, I had sketched out pictures and written up a kind of project plan to get from Phase 1 to Phase 3, culmanating in what I'm calling The Big Pivot.

By the end of the second week, we officialy gained regulars, organic marketing began happening (when one person brought in another person, and that other person brought in more people), and I made it past pissing off my first customer. I won't name her, but establishments downtown know her. She came in asking for a drink, I offered her water, and she threw her cane against my wall - creating a gouge and a scuff mark - while she swore at me on her way out. I knew that day would come, and it finally did. There you have it.

This weekend marked the end of week three. Phase 1 of my changes is complete. I bought a prep station, put up and "Order Here" sign by the register, and painted a new, larger menu on the wall. Phase 2 has already begun with my new lunch hours and expanded board and sandwich options. Essie is now working every day that we're open. And we're practicing the workflow for doing pour-over coffees. At the end of week one, I knew I had to make a big change if I was going to meet the ABC food sales requirement. Since I didn't want to stay open later (because I struggle to stay awake until 9 PM) and wasn't going to get into serving dinner, I decided to open earlier. Besides, if I really want people to think of this place as "like a coffee shop, but with wine", then earlier just makes sense.

And look. I'm nothing if not flexible but also, I've got boundaries. Principles. A routine I'm not willing to screw up. I'm nearing 50. What I know from years of experience is that if I don't write and workout before 11 AM, I will get squirrely, and nobody wants that. It's for my mental health and the general happiness of those around me. I love this wine shop but I'm not willing to lose my sanity over it.

Besides, if you've read anything I've written, you know this place is about so much more than just wine.

Community, Creativity, and Conversation. I've been repeating that for months and share that with a new customer at least once a day. If I can't be my authentic self then all the rest is b.s. And I suppose if there's an unspoken ethos of my place, it's that we try to avoid b.s. at all costs. My own, in the food and wine, and with our customers. I thought about putting that on a sign. "Everyone is welcome, we just don't accept cash or bulls%*t."

Even though "The Three C's", as we're calling them, are baked into every decision we've made, I still have moments when I forget them. Don't you hate it when you think of a good response hours after someone says something that pushes all your buttons? That happened to me over the weekend, and I'm so mad that I didn't respond first with, "Well, sir, our primary focus isn't, in fact, on wine. It's actually community, creativity, and conversation." That might have taken the conversation about what he thought I should do with my wine shop in a totally different direction. That might have kept me from losing sleep about what I didn't say. What I'm chosing to do instead, is add that to

the growing list of things that I'm learning.

Here's part of the list:

• One person's fruity is another person's sweet. That sounds like a statement about their personality but what I mean is that when people ask for sweet wine, they don't always mean they want sugary. So I'm learning to clarify. Makes sense, though. Tastebuds, DNA, and brains are different. I grew up eating hippie fruit leather so it doesn't take much for me to consider something sweet.

• Not only do I learn by doing, but I remember by seeing. I discovered this quirk about myself when I owned my yoga studio. I need a list of names to read or else I'm going to keep calling you Brenda when in fact your name is Courtney. So if I ask for your card to start a tab, it's not because I think you're going to walk out without paying. It's so I can see your name to remember it.

• Also, I nearly always forget the first person's name I hear. I'll be honest, there are a decent number of you that have come in with your friends and spouses and I absolutely cannot remember your names. If there's some way to re-tell me your name, that would be great. You could be like, "Girl, I've had a hard day. By 3 PM I said to my self, Cheryl, we really need to get some wine, and so here we are. What's a good red for a rough Tuesday?" Or something like that.

• If a man is behind the counter, people assume he's the one in charge. Whose name is on the window, People?

• Words matter. More men than women tell me what they think I should do with my shop. Women offer me what they think I could do. What I should do is politely ignore the shoulds.

• Some people are surprsied when they learn that I'm almost fifty. I'm taking that as a comliment. On the other hand, the folks that think I'm younger and inexperienced, and treat me as such, are on a different list of mine.

• I cannot spend extra energy trying to please everyone. Some people will never be pleased. Let it go, Burg. Despite the few unpleasable people, an overwhelming number of people do see my vision and are excited to be a part of it and to help me succeed.

• Everyone has an interesting story to tell if you give them the space and time - and sincere interest - to tell it. Dale Carnegie knew what he was talking about in How To Win Friends and Influence People.

• Sincerity matters. Authenticity is appreicated. Hospitality is an act of humanity.

• Even the cloudy people (those types that bring their grey cloud with them everywhere) offer lessons I can learn. The first lesson is, it's not about me.

• Some people like to watch their food being made so making that process interesting and more efficient is doubly worthwhile (i.e.; the food prep station). Don't expect Japanese Steakhouse, though. We're not flipping shrimps into our hats.

• People have strong opinions about certain foods - and I'm the first among them. I hate cranberries, I prefer nectarines to peaches, some people hate raisins, and one customer said he wouldn't eat hummus for a thousand dollars. Wow. That guy really hates chickpeas.

• Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. Sometimes you absolutely get it all wrong. My hope is that I don't make an absolute fool of myself in the process. To be clear, I'm not talking about books, I'm talking about my first impression of people. I can't help it. I'm human. Just like not all Black people listen to hip hop, not all White people wearing a John Deere hat own a tractor. I can't turn off the part of me that creates a story about a person in the first 30 seconds but I do have the ability to rewrite and edit. (You should see how many times I've written this article.)

Of all the things that I might change and adjust about the shop like our workflow, our menu, the schedule, or even the name, I refuse to back down from our values. There's a story behind the wines I select just like there's a story behind the art on the walls. I could point to the concept of quality over quantity, but what it all boils down to is people. The people who made the thing, the people who use the thing, the people who come into the place. And the nice thing about my shop is that for the most part it self-selects. If you walk in and take a look around, you'll know if this is your kind of place. Maybe it won't be but my hope is to create a welcoming and comfortable atmosphere for a diversity of people. Believe it or not, I don't want only a bubble of people just like me. And so far, I think I've accomplished that.

To reinforce the vision I have for the place, like I mentioned earlier, my plan is to do a kind of rebranding soon. I'm going to update the signage on my front window and add "Wine Cafe" (and make all the changes to bring that to life), and also add the words "Community, Creativity, Conversation". I want people to see these words before they walk through the doors. If those words resonate with you, then please come all the way in.

That does have a nice flow to it, doesn't it? Burgundie's Wine Cafe. Just the name exudes a kind of vibe. And what makes that vibe isn't the great wine or the meaninful artwork or the really glorious boards Essie makes, it's you. It's all of us. Together.

Thank you for a great first three weeks, everyone. I'm excited for the next things to come.