9.28.2010
Dear Bartender,
do you realize that our potential closing date is also the anniversary date of our engagement when you mentioned oct 7 last night over the phone, you didn't make note of it. in fact, i didn't realize it. i just felt a faint recognition of the date. as if i had something to do that day...then, when i was about to fall to sleep, i remembered. what a fine coincidence, no?
you wonder if we should take off for the vineyard with friends this weekend or if we should attend the Oktoberfest in which our first official mention of opening will be pronounced on a sponsorship banner. it would be a last hurrah of sorts. and, you say, if this closing date is the actual date, well then, we won't be able to go to the vineyard for my birthday as is now the tradition. instead, we'll be pulling up carpet, moving a bar top, feeding hungry friends whose construction know how will be in full effect so we can have a soft opening a few days after.
i fancy the image of us running off to the vineyard. our last boat trip for this season. letting loose for a couple of days before our life's work takes charge. i also wonder if we should be at the festival, spreading the word, rubbing elbows, sipping stouts and pumpkin ales from plastic cups.
i may be excited by the later option. seems a start of something. i am worried, however, that we may need the trip away to clear away residual stress from the process that's worn us both out, but more so you.
i'm torn. but, i think i know what the answer should be.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
letter twelve
6.22.2010
(this post is more "notes" style)
as we wait for word from our underwriter, we are stuck in the "in between." we travel to hartford and saratoga springs to see phish. nils leaves before me. departs after i do. he is relaxed for the first time in months. although the beer flows freely, a perk of magic hat friends, we both maintain an even flow of buzzed calm. the music tends to the distraction of mind. concerned only by where to eat late lunches, what to drink once at the venue and where to land our crew while guessing the set list. high fives when one of us "calls it." intent staring at the stage and swaying loose bodies when we're surprised by a not often played tune. we walk. we talk. we sneak in a kiss or hug when due. we laugh until abs sore. we must add depth to facial laugh lines. we do as we normally do. all the while, we wonder how much our lives are to change with a simple sign off of approval.
perrya and i concern ourselves with drink recipes on the ride up. i break in a new notebook, scribbling confidential and top secret on the first page. as billy drives and talks on his cell, we devise the possibilities for cocktails, infusions, theme drinks, names -- all the while looking forward to the chemistry session of shaking them into fruition. what will the crowd like? who will we attract with a bellini? a berry-driven mojito. two cans of bud and a shot from the well.
as we wait for word from our underwriter, we are stuck in the "in between." we travel to hartford and saratoga springs to see phish. nils leaves before me. departs after i do. he is relaxed for the first time in months. although the beer flows freely, a perk of magic hat friends, we both maintain an even flow of buzzed calm. the music tends to the distraction of mind. concerned only by where to eat late lunches, what to drink once at the venue and where to land our crew while guessing the set list. high fives when one of us "calls it." intent staring at the stage and swaying loose bodies when we're surprised by a not often played tune. we walk. we talk. we sneak in a kiss or hug when due. we laugh until abs sore. we must add depth to facial laugh lines. we do as we normally do. all the while, we wonder how much our lives are to change with a simple sign off of approval.
perrya and i concern ourselves with drink recipes on the ride up. i break in a new notebook, scribbling confidential and top secret on the first page. as billy drives and talks on his cell, we devise the possibilities for cocktails, infusions, theme drinks, names -- all the while looking forward to the chemistry session of shaking them into fruition. what will the crowd like? who will we attract with a bellini? a berry-driven mojito. two cans of bud and a shot from the well.
somehow the thought process comes naturally. sure, i've worked in bars and restaurants. heard many stories from nils and friends. yet, this is a side of the business i haven't been privy to. the planning. yet, the impressions scatter forth too rapidly for me to capture with neat penmanship. the red sharpie caresses a few pages with our stream of boozeness. i take a photo with my phone and text it to nils. see, we're working...the message never goes through. yet, as if he had rec'd it, he sends me a picture of the hefty cobb salad he's about to rearrange with a hungry fork. later we muse about the timing of these photos given he never rec'd mine.
Friday, July 1, 2011
letter eleven
8.16.2010
Dear Bartender,
still waiting....still waiting...cue the appropriate song...
more papers were signed this weekend. the edge of signing these documents was somewhat curbed by doing so at our attorney's home. the meaning of the signing, however, was not dampened by the location. the pens clicked all the same as they would have elsewhere while we signed our names here, here, initialed there and there. the breakdown of everything. the projection of the next five-to-ten years. it's all so real.
after the signing session, papers are stowed and discussion covers the rumors around town of how we apparently already own the bar and whom we've hired, etc. etc., the improvements you plan to make in four days before a soft opening. are we just weeks away from closing now? nothing is set quite yet. appraisal is still needed. please may it schedule for this week.
this moment is so very strange. we must plan for the beginning without the excitement of doing so. nothing is set. yet, everything must be ready at a signature's notice to begin.
renovations. drink list. interior improvements. tap line installation.
i see the weight of it all bearing down on you. the stress of the process is a norm. but, the terror of making this move, taking on this responsibility without the confirmation of knowing it's all going to turn out as you plan, well fine sir, that's plaguing your mind now. after viewing those numbers, and viewing your worried eyes, it's my burden too.
I've never shared such an immense burden with you. a burden that you strive to hold solely upon your person. your thoughts. your hopes.
sure, I'm beside you. we write the business plan. we discuss the theme, drinks, um, everything. even so, this is your business, your next step, your decade's worth of experience being tested. I'm a partner, but not the one giving birth to this business.
Dear Bartender,
still waiting....still waiting...cue the appropriate song...
more papers were signed this weekend. the edge of signing these documents was somewhat curbed by doing so at our attorney's home. the meaning of the signing, however, was not dampened by the location. the pens clicked all the same as they would have elsewhere while we signed our names here, here, initialed there and there. the breakdown of everything. the projection of the next five-to-ten years. it's all so real.
after the signing session, papers are stowed and discussion covers the rumors around town of how we apparently already own the bar and whom we've hired, etc. etc., the improvements you plan to make in four days before a soft opening. are we just weeks away from closing now? nothing is set quite yet. appraisal is still needed. please may it schedule for this week.
this moment is so very strange. we must plan for the beginning without the excitement of doing so. nothing is set. yet, everything must be ready at a signature's notice to begin.
renovations. drink list. interior improvements. tap line installation.
i see the weight of it all bearing down on you. the stress of the process is a norm. but, the terror of making this move, taking on this responsibility without the confirmation of knowing it's all going to turn out as you plan, well fine sir, that's plaguing your mind now. after viewing those numbers, and viewing your worried eyes, it's my burden too.
I've never shared such an immense burden with you. a burden that you strive to hold solely upon your person. your thoughts. your hopes.
sure, I'm beside you. we write the business plan. we discuss the theme, drinks, um, everything. even so, this is your business, your next step, your decade's worth of experience being tested. I'm a partner, but not the one giving birth to this business.
i find myself caressing your face more these days. taking your hand. offering comfort to sway those worry lines elsewhere. but the reality is thick and you refuse to be distracted. and, babe, it's this intense focus that has gotten you this far. and it will carry you forward toward success. fear is in the idea of failure. would be failing yourself more, however, if you stayed where you are despising your daily grind?
being here is an accomplishment in itself. i hope, someday, that you may realize this. you are too far ahead in will and mind right now to see. i perhaps i see for you. so i may tell you so. someday.
being here is an accomplishment in itself. i hope, someday, that you may realize this. you are too far ahead in will and mind right now to see. i perhaps i see for you. so i may tell you so. someday.
xo
your girl
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