Pride in the Small Things

I was watching a scene from A Memory of a Killer recently that stuck with me.

In the scene, a young guy finishes washing dishes and thinks he’s done. The boss checks them and tells him to do them again because they aren’t clean enough. The kid protests, saying someone else doesn’t even do dishes. The boss responds with something simple but powerful: when his own son had that job at the same age, the dishes were spotless because he had pride in his work.

When the kid shrugs and says, “It’s just dishes,” the boss gives the real lesson.

It’s not about the dishes.

It’s about being given a task and doing it right.

That scene resonated with me because it reminded me of something I learned long before I ever ran a business.

My first job started at midnight.

I worked for the city park and pool from midnight until eight in the morning. While most people were sleeping, I was cleaning bathhouses and helping with pool maintenance. It wasn’t glamorous work. Nobody was applauding the guy scrubbing floors in the middle of the night.

But looking back, those hours taught me something important: the size of the job doesn’t determine its importance. The pride you take in doing it does.

Later on, when I worked for a tree service, I learned the same lesson again. After the cutting was done, I was told to rake and sweep the yard and the street. Nothing fancy about that job either. But I made sure that place was spotless when I finished. The yard looked better than when we arrived.

That’s when it really clicked for me.

Small tasks aren’t meaningless. They’re where character is created.

Anyone can step up when the moment is big and everyone is watching. But the people who take pride in the small jobs, the unnoticed ones, the ones nobody brags about, those are the people you can trust with bigger responsibilities.

Great responsibility isn’t handed out randomly. It’s earned in the smallest tasks.

Because the way someone handles a simple job tells you exactly how they’ll handle a complicated one.

The task may be small, but the character it reveals never is.

Being “Nice” Is the Most Expensive Mistake in Business

The biggest mistake you can make in business is being nice to employees.

Some people need discipline. Some people need to be fired. And pretending otherwise is how small businesses bleed out slowly.

Post-COVID didn’t just disrupt industries, it rewired work ethic. And small businesses are paying the price for government policies that rewarded not working while punishing those who kept showing up.

You can explain expectations until you’re blue in the face. You can train, retrain, document, demonstrate, and remind. And still…. people just won’t do what’s required. They’ll do the bare minimum and convince themselves that it’s “enough.”

Meanwhile, business owners are handcuffed.

• Food specials? Forget it — cooks “can’t handle” the extra.

• Drink specials? Forget it — servers don’t want to promote anything new.

• Responsibilities and accountability? Forget it — that’s suddenly “too much.”

We survived COVID. Despite shutdowns. Despite losing half our staff. Despite every attempt to pull the rug out from under us. We made it with what we had.

And now?

What we’re left with is an employee pool that’s lazy, disengaged, and painfully lackluster.

People love to say, “You can only go up from here.”

I disagree. When you’ve been stuck at the bottom long enough, sometimes the only way forward is to bail out and find a new starting point.

Between rising rent, food shortages, delivery delays, missed orders, and the added burden placed on owners because employees simply don’t care, it’s enough to make any sane person walk away.

But here I am. Circling the eddy. No paddle. Going down with the ship. Because that’s what captains do. Because we all know sanity isn’t my strong suit!

Positivity Posts and the Reality of Running a Business

Every morning starts the same: I grab my coffee, scroll through social media, and like clockwork, LinkedIn hits me with a wall of motivational posts. You know the ones: “Hire people you can learn from!” or “Don’t micromanage, trust your team!”

At first, it feels inspiring. Those bright graphics, powerful quotes, and feel-good fliers promise a world where leadership is effortless and teams run like well-oiled machines. But then I pause and ask myself…. what does it really mean?

Because here’s the truth: you can post all the “how to be the best leader” quotes you want, but how does a business grow when no one’s applying for the jobs? And worse, what do you do when the people you do have need constant hand-holding just to keep things on track?

I’ve tried it all. I’ve trusted. I’ve encouraged creativity. I’ve stepped back to let people shine. And more times than not, it’s backfired. The meltdowns, the costly mistakes, the inability to handle adversity alone… they’ve all landed squarely on my desk.

I think back to when I lived down south, scrambling for a place to stay after my roommates left post-hurricane. A boss took me in… let me stay in her garage apartment just so I could keep working. I showed up every day, hungry to learn. Then there was the boss who taught me everything I know about restaurants and bars. He didn’t see a lost, rebellious kid, he saw potential. And he bet on me.

That’s the kind of leadership I remember. The kind that invests in people, not just platitudes. This is the kind of leader I want to be.

So, when is enough enough with all the motivational fluff?

Where are the real posts, the ones that admit no one’s applying, that training feels like Groundhog Day, and that micromanaging isn’t about control, it’s about survival?

Until I see those, I’ll keep scrolling past the positivity posts, knowing that, in the real world, hope doesn’t run your business. Hustle does.

ADEQUATE HELP

Working in chaos? That’s supposed to be fun. Embrace the suck, find your rhythm, and grind it out. Me? I love it. When I first started out, I fed off the energy of the people around me. The pace, the noise, the hustle…. it fueled me.

But today’s workforce? Man, it feels different. Too many can’t (or won’t) handle the grind. My energy is up, I’m ready to roll, but I look around and see folks ducking out, dragging their feet, or worse, glued to their phones.

Here’s the deal: I don’t ask for much. I don’t expect perfection. What I do expect is your full effort while you’re on the clock. Not texting. Not scrolling Facebook. Not hiding out in the walk-in cooler like it’s a safehouse from reality. Your presence is demanded five days a week…

For the few hours you’re here, I’m asking for one thing: give me your 100%. Respect the job. Respect the team. Respect yourself.

Adequate help, that’s it. Not superhuman. Not perfection. Just show up, give your best, and make the grind easier instead of harder. Because when everyone’s locked in? That chaos becomes rhythm. And that rhythm? That’s where the magic happens.

Does Any of This Even Matter?

The Quiet Crisis

There’s a moment, usually late at night, after the noise dies down, where you start to wonder: Is this it?

Is life just this endless loop of giving everything you have, only to feel like you’re still falling short?

Lately, I’ve been asking myself if any of this, the business, the hustle, the sacrifices, actually means something.

The Superhero Complex That Backfired

When I started this journey, I thought small business ownership was the key to freedom. Time. Autonomy. Respect.

Instead, I built a cage out of dreams… and I’m the one locked inside.

Every decision. Every fire to put out. Every employee who leans on me instead of learning to stand on their own…

I’ve become the sacrificial lamb to my own ambition.

The Mirror No One Talks About

Am I a good person?

Have I accomplished anything that matters?

Is anyone out there proud of me, or do they just see the hustle, not the human?

Am I a good father? A good friend? Or have I been so consumed by survival that I’ve let people down?

And worst of all…

Do I even like the man I see in the mirror?

The Vision vs. The Reality

I imagined a well-oiled machine.

A team that ran like clockwork.

I pictured myself laughing with guests, grabbing drinks with friends, taking weekends away with family, soaking in the freedom.

Instead, I’m constantly on call.

Every question. Every crisis. Every cracked dish, busted pipe, no-call no-show—I’m the guy.

The fixer. The everything.

And the friends I once laughed with? I’m not even sure who they are anymore.

Not because I stopped caring…

But because I’ve had to care about everything else.

The Trap of Comparison

One of my biggest mistakes? Comparing myself to other restaurant owners.

Smiling on social media like life’s a vacation with appetizers.

Their staff? “Incredible.”

Their business? “Booming.”

Their mental health? Spotless.

Meanwhile, I’m wondering if I’m doing it wrong.

Maybe I’m not good enough.

But here’s the truth:

Most of us are suffering silently, polishing the image while hiding the cracks.

I just wasn’t pretending hard enough.

The Question That Haunts Me

So now I ask: What does it all mean?

Have I really built something that matters?

Is anyone proud of me?

Am I proud of me?

Because lately, I don’t feel like a father, a friend, or even a man who’s got his shit together.

I feel like a guy stuck in a loop:

Wake. Grind. Sleep (barely). Repeat.

This dream of freedom?

It turned into a beautiful prison… with hand-cut fries and a full bar.

But Still… There’s Something

And yet… despite the exhaustion… despite the doubts…

I did build something.

From nothing.

From grit.

From fire.

Late nights sitting in my cruiser dreaming up menu ideas.

Memories from places I’ve traveled, flavors I’ve chased, people I’ve met.

I built something real.

I gave people jobs.

I fed people joy, comfort, and wings they’ll never forget.

I showed up every damn day when quitting would’ve been the easier choice.

Maybe I’m not “living the dream.”

But maybe I’m proof that dreams take more out of you than the brochure says.

So no—I don’t have all the answers.

I’m still tired. I’m still angry. I still don’t know what freedom looks like.

But I do know this:

I built something that matters.

Even if it only matters to me.

And even if I’ve lost myself in the process… maybe this is the part of the story where the hero hasn’t realized he’s the hero yet.

When Silence Says Too Much

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to live a life that matters.

Not professionally.

Not in terms of money or five-star reviews.

But in terms of impact.

Love.

Presence.

Connection.

And if I’m being brutally honest?

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt truly proud of myself.

I don’t know if I’ve ever heard someone say they were proud of me.

That realization hit like a freight train.

And now I wonder what that silence says about my life.

The Craving to Be Needed

I want to be the kind of father who’s there.

Not just a provider. Not the guy behind the business.

But present. Engaged. Laughing in the living room.

Showing up to the moments that matter.

Same with love. Same with friendship.

I don’t want to be admired from afar.

I want to be needed. Wanted. Valued.

But when you’re always on call for everyone else…

You start to wonder if you exist outside of what you do for people.

The Loneliness of “Success”

You can build the dream. Hit the numbers. Keep it moving.

And still feel invisible.

Because success doesn’t come with applause.

It comes with pressure and expectations.

And in the chaos of making sure everyone else is okay…

You start losing sight of yourself.

The Myth of “Normal”

And honestly? I don’t even know what “normal” looks like anymore.

I want it. Whatever it is.

Quiet mornings.

Shared coffee.

Inside jokes that don’t involve employee call-offs.

Dinners that aren’t interrupted by emergency texts.

I want to show up to life, not stumble into it exhausted.

What If I’m Still Becoming?

Maybe I haven’t felt proud because I’ve been too busy surviving.

Maybe the people who should’ve told me they were proud… never learned how.

Maybe their silence isn’t about my worth, maybe it’s about their inability to see it.

But just because no one said it… doesn’t mean it’s not true.

So let me be the first…

I’m proud of me.

For still trying.

For not giving up.

For being honest about what hurts.

(And yeah… even saying it out loud, I’m not sure I believe it yet.)

But I’m learning that this kind of vulnerability?

It’s not weakness.

It’s a fucking superpower.

To Anyone Feeling This Too…

If you’ve ever felt like you’re busting your ass and still coming up empty…

I see you.

You’re not alone.

And maybe, just maybe…

The version of ourselves we’re becoming is waiting on the other side of the pain we’re finally brave enough to feel.

So here I am.

Not just a business owner.

But a human.

Still figuring it all out.

And that’s gotta count for something.

Late night dinner in the dark…

New World, No Grit?

Owning my own bar and restaurant has opened my eyes to a lot of things I used to take for granted.

Back in the day, when I clocked in as a bartender, the first thing I’d do? Check my inventory. What’s stocked, what’s running low? End of every shift, I’d clean, restock, and leave a detailed list of beers and liquors that needed attention. That was just standard. No one had to ask.

Now that I own the place? Half the staff strolls in like it’s their living room. No sense of urgency, no instinct to go above and beyond. Just clock in, stay in their lane, and peace out.

Did we lose something from the ’90s to now? Where’s the grit? The gusto? The pride in being a grinder? Where’s that “I’m here to crush it and make this place better” energy?

I’m not talking about working yourself to the bone, I’m talking about caring. About showing up with heart, hustle, and some damn initiative and not your own personal agenda?

It’s not that hard: look around, anticipate, and take action. That’s how you grow. That’s how you win.

But in today’s new world of workers, that mindset feels like a dying art.

And I’ll be real, I just don’t get it.

So here’s the question: Can we fix it? Is there hope?

Are there still people out there who want it, who want to learn, level up, and build something better? Are there people who believe in showing up on time, stepping up, and actually giving a damn?

Because if you’re one of them, one of the few left who takes pride in showing up and showing out, then I’m looking for you.

We used to chase shifts. Now I’m chasing people to do the shift.

If you want a gold star for doing the bare minimum, you’re in the wrong place!

Owner’s Corner

A weekly blog of all the ups and downs in the restaurant industry

“Nobody Replaced the Damn Ketchup” AGAIN!

It’s always the simple shit that gets you.

Busy as hell, staff running around, and not one person notices the ketchup is empty. Not only empty… but just left there, waiting. With a brand-new box sitting right beside it. Untouched. Unopened. You know what sucks? A customer needing ketchup and having none ready to go!

OWNER’S CORNER

What Gets You Out of Bed Daily?

This rant could go a hundred different ways, but since this is my Owner’s Corner, I’m keeping it restaurant-real.

So, what gets you up in the morning?

Bills? Rent? Child support? Ego? Guilt? Passion?

Are you a hustler? Do you have grit?

Do you wake up thinking, “I’m gonna crush it today,” or do you drag your ass into work already halfway defeated?

Let me take you back for a second.

When I moved into my college dorm, I was a week early. I went to the office to get my student ID, and the lady asked, “Are you a mover or a shaker?”

I looked her dead in the eye and said, “I’m a Mover and a Shaker”

She was so confused, she just gave me the ID early.

I still have no idea what a “mover or shaker” actually is, but I’ve been both ever since.

Now ask yourself, what drives you?

Is it survival? Is it your kids? Is it pride in being your best self so they see a different kind of example growing up?

I don’t know what gets you going, but I’ll tell you what doesn’t:

Money

Because there’s a decent wage and plenty of shifts available, and somehow, the motivation still isn’t there.

In this industry, I’ve seen way too many people doing just enough.

Everyone wants more money, but very few want to earn it.

In 11 years of owning a restaurant, I’ve seen maybe five true hustlers. People who knew their job, owned their job, and didn’t need a babysitter to stay on track.

Managers and owners get hypnotized by resumes. But let me tell you—75% of them are garbage.

You can have a rock star resume and still be a trainwreck on the line.

Skill? That’s teachable.

But if you don’t want to learn? You’re dead weight.

And if you don’t even know what gets you out of bed in the morning, you’ll just stand around watching others do the work. You’ll offer help too late, if at all. You’ll mutter the dreaded phrase:

“I don’t care.”

If I had a dollar for every time I heard that from an employee, I’d be retired on a beach somewhere.

But guess what?

“I don’t care” kills businesses.

So does inconsistency in the product.

Those two are the silent assassins of our industry.

And look, I know some people won’t want to hear this.

But this is my blog, my bar, and my Owner’s Corner. So… fuck it.

Take a good, hard look at yourself.

What motivates you? Why do you show up for work?

If you can’t answer that honestly, then why are you even working?

Managers and owners aren’t just looking for warm bodies.

We want people with grit, hustle, and drive.

The ones who show up early, stay a little late, and make sure everything runs right. Not just for themselves, but for the whole team.

And if money does motivate you? Cool.

Then here’s your roadmap to earning more:

RAISE-WORTHY CRITERIA

1. Consistency Over Time

• Show up on time, ready, with the right attitude.

• No drama, no ghosting, no vanishing mid-shift.

2. Performance & Work Ethic

• Handle your station like a pro, even under pressure.

• Don’t wait for direction—just handle your business.

• Keep the quality high, no matter how busy it gets.

3. Team Player Energy

• Help others without bitching about it.

• Keep the vibe positive, even in the weeds.

• Don’t stir the pot… unless it’s literal soup.

4. Guest Experience Rockstar

• Guests remember your name for the right reasons.

• You upsell naturally and turn complaints into compliments.

5. Loyalty & Longevity

• You’ve stuck around and shown you want to grow.

• You’re invested in the team—not just the paycheck.

6. Willingness to Learn

• You take feedback like a champ.

• You cross-train, learn new systems, and stay ahead of the curve.

Raises aren’t given just because your rent’s due or your car got repo’d.

They’re earned when you become someone your team can count on, that’s when you level up.

That’s when the business wants to invest in you.

You want a raise?

Be the person that makes the restaurant better.

Then watch what happens.

When Perfect Resumes Crash and Burn in the Kitchen; The Resume Said Rockstar. Reality Said Train Wreck

The Resume Trap: When Experience Fools You

We’ve all been there, sifting through resumes, hoping to spot that unicorn candidate with the golden combination: years of experience, the perfect background, and ideas that sound amazing in an interview. And yeah, we thought we struck gold recently at Basil’s. This new hire had the resume of a seasoned pro. During the interview? Nailed it! Said all the right things, dropped some impressive suggestions for improving kitchen flow, we were sold.

But two weeks in?

Didn’t know cook times.

Couldn’t keep up with the pace.

And the KDS? Might as well have been written in a foreign language.

It’s a brutal reminder that experience doesn’t equal talent. What looks good on paper can completely fall apart when the heat gets turned up—literally.

Smart Isn’t Always the Right Fit

This brings us to a key idea from First, Break All the Rules: “Great managers don’t hire based on experience”, they hire based on talent. That’s the natural ability to thrive in a role, not just survive. And sometimes, the most capable people on paper can completely miss the mark in real world performance.

Intelligence and charm in an interview don’t mean someone has the hustle, adaptability, or instinct to work a Friday night rush in a slammed kitchen. Especially not ours.

Why Managers Keep Chasing Experience

It’s easy to fall into the trap of experience-based hiring. It feels safe. Like checking a box:

“10 years on the line? Great!”

“Managed a team of 20? Perfect!”

But what that doesn’t tell you is how they handle pressure, how they communicate under stress, or whether they even care enough to grow.

The Real Cost of the Wrong Hire

A bad hire doesn’t just waste time, it kills momentum. It drains your team. Your best employees have to pick up the slack. Morale dips. Trust fades. And your customers? They feel it too.

So What Do You Hire For?

First, Break All the Rules lays it out:

• Hire for talent, not experience. You can teach cook times. You can’t teach work ethic.

• Trust your gut on behaviors, not buzzwords.

• Look for people who fit the role’s demands naturally.

Breaking Free from the Resume Mirage

At Basil’s, we’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) that a perfect resume doesn’t mean a perfect employee. The right hire is someone who has the natural wiring to succeed in the role—not just someone who talks a good game.

And the truth is, the best people for the job aren’t always the most polished on paper. Sometimes they’re just the ones who show up, ask the right questions, and figure it out fast because they care.