Closing the store was inevitable. By the time we shut our doors, several other SoupMan franchises had also closed. Franchisees in PA, NY, Myrtle Beach, SC, Canada, Vermont, and Boulder, Colorado were facing the same demise as we were. Many more locations would be added to the list in the months ahead. By Christmas 2007, we had no jobs and no money but, fortunately, we did have friends. You really do find out who your friends are when you're down and out. The Salvation Army was the only institution that provided aid and kept us from living under the bridge. We not on received help but made friends in the process. My friend Susan (from high school) and her husband Allen gave us a gift card to a local super market and forty dollars to buy our grand-daughter a Christmas present. We cooked an old fashioned New Orleans style Christmas dinner and Susan, Allen, their daughter Becca and her husband joined our family in sharing this meal. It would be the last holiday spent in our home in Colorado Springs but it was one of the best and most memorable. Two months later David was hired by Coors and we moved to Golden, Colorado. I got a job in nearby Evergreen. Financial recovery would begin but healing from the emotional toll would take much more time.
After I had cut our costs of goods everywhere I could, I had to lay off some employees and cut hours on the others. Things were bad enough when problems with corporate arose, compounding our troubles. Our soup order was late, considerably late. Corporate was unaware until I informed them. Since it was past the allowable amount of time in our contract, the person handling the orders was understandably excited. She snapped that she would find out what happened and get back with me.
Somehow the soup was on a truck with the longest possible route to our store in Colorado and wouldn't arrive for another 4 - 5 days. We could possibly be out of soup by then. She promised to have a few cases sent overnight to help tide us over but that never materialized. By the time the soup arrived, we were almost depleted and daily offerings were not as varied as they normally were.
The next order was also late. When I called corporate, the response was one of indifference. Again, she would get back with me after finding out what happened to the order. When I received her call, I was told, "You're not going to believe this!", which is usually followed by an incredible story. And it was. She informed me that the driver that was delivering our soup--retired. Silence. Did she just say the driver "retired"? So after the soup was loaded on a truck in New Jersey, somewhere between New Jersey and Colorado, the driver pulled over somewhere and retired? She was right, I didn't believe it.
Do I bluntly call her a liar? Do I feign a British accent with a tinge of sarcasm and say, " A likely story"? No, I said nothing. I think gobsmacked is the word--much better than flabbergasted since I had just been smacked with a gob of b.s. She quickly broke the silence saying that the order would arrive soon and hung up.
The more I thought about what has just occurred, the funnier it became. Seriously, he retired. When the soup finally arrived, the driver was the same driver that had delivered our last order.
I was alone in the restaurant, when two college aged girls walked in, ordered some soup and proceeded to take it outside to eat on the patio. They were talking and eating when the downtown local poet approached them. He's a fixture downtown, walking the streets soliciting his work in the business district, wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase with copies of his stories and poems. Most people pick up speed and try to avoid him but the girls were his captive audience.
Immediately, one of the girls ignored him as if he wasn't there. He turned toward the other girl and continued his spiel. The girl who had ignored him and now sitting behind him, looked at her friend, raised her hand to the side of her head and twirled her index finger, making the crazy sign.
As an uncontrollable grin flashed across my face, I thought, This is what my life has become -- crazy. My reality show is a mash up of Fawlty Towers and The Sopranos -- a comedy and a tragedy. Maybe, I should write a book; I started keeping a journal to record everything that was happening on a daily basis. As memorable as these events were, there were so many and I didn't want to lose any of it. So every day after the lunch rush, when I was alone, I would record the events of the day in a notebook--it helped me focus on the absurdity of the situation and reprieved my mind from the fear of what was ahead.
Due Diligence - research and analysis of a company or organization done in preparation for a business transaction.
The current atmosphere of the franchise industry is one of enormous risks. In most cases buying a franchise translates into being nothing more than a modern day share cropper, working menial tasks for meager wages. You will not be in control of your business but a slave to the franchisor. Due diligence requires more than hiring a business attorney to review your UFOC (Uniform Franchise Offering Circular) and contract, googling and checking the resumes of the top board members of the company. The CEO of the franchise we purchased had an exceptionally impressive resume but unfortunately, had little to do with the operation of this franchise. In order to protect yourself and do a proper due diligence, one must perform a forensic evaluation of the franchise in question. If your attorney cannot or will not do this, the daunting task falls on you. If you fail to do this, be warned--your endeavor will be (financially) fatal. Not all business lawyers can provide the proper analysis of a franchise. They are knowledgeable on reading contracts but just reading the contract doesn't inform you of the risks in that particular franchise. Also, they may not catch the traps in the contract language. Proper due diligence involves deconstructing the franchise for fraud analysis. Most franchises are not as good as represented. One of the first misrepresentations is the amount of investment needed. Because of UFOC disclosures, it is assumed that if any of the info turns out to be untrue, the investors can sue for fraud. But usually by that time, most investors are bankrupt. Bad franchisors count on investors inability to hold them accountable. Turning to regulators and government agencies is fruitless. They almost never do anything to protect victims of bad franchises. Having other franchisees join together in filing complaints doesn't help. Arbitration and Acknowledgement clauses give franchisors free reign and government agencies' resources are limited. Prevention is always the best medicine. Pay attention to red flags. Never sign an agreement that gives the franchisor the provision to assume the lease on the franchise location. This prevents the franchisee (in the case of a bad franchise) from operation in that location as another business. Recently in the Denver area, two local Steak 'n Shake franchises were losing money with the franchisor's mandated value menu. Corporate pulled the plug on these locations by shutting down the restaurant's computer system (which they control). They filed suit and took over the business from the franchisees for reneging on the menu prices. Even though a local judge allowed the franchisee to continue business in the location minus the signage, the franchisor was able to take over the business and assume the lease. After we closed the doors of our franchise, I spent many sleepless nights online. While googling every key word(s) I could think of that related to the franchisor, I tripped across an unfamiliar name. After finding a connection, I began to research that company by reading SEC documents and following a trail of failed food franchises that later resurrected with new franchise names but identical profiles. A great product, after failing in one franchise, can be renamed and repackaged as something new. Players can be shifted into new positions--sometimes appearing to have a less role in the "new" company and out of scrutiny, while remaining the main player. Forensic deconstruction involves discovering the hidden risks and knowing who really controls the enterprise. UFOC regulations only requires the company officers to disclose any personal bankruptcies but not if any of the companies in which they have held positions have gone bankrupt. Being salaried, their personal wealth is not affected when the company goes down. Don't just look at the people holding the top positions, Who are the required vendors? Are they truly independent or is there a hidden connection to the company? How are you buying the franchise? The franchise salesperson may be called a Director or V.P. but usually, he's an outside sales person working on commission. You have to question everything you are being sold.
On the morning of our Original SoupMan opening in downtown Colorado Springs. the owners of the Boulder store showed up with cups, bowls, and other consumables. They were giving us their remaining stock; their store had closed. The news was shocking but I didn't have time to process it. We were insanely busy with customers.
In New Orleans, the success of Mardi Gras is determined by the tonage of garbage collected on Ash Wednesday. Even before closing, I knew our day had been a success by the bags and bags of garage carried out to the dumpster. We could hardly keep up with it. It took hours to clean up that night and yet when corporate's training team were saying their good-byes , I had an awful gut feeling-- a premonition of doom.
Our first month was extremely busy. After the honeymoon phase, we settled into a routine, consisting of a healthy lunch rush and many regulars in the evening.
Even though we were selling soup, our cost of goods were too high to ever turn a profit. I began trimming the fat everywhere I could but it was not enough. I called a couple of other franchisees to find out what they were doing to make their businesses successful.
Two more stores had closed, one in Manhattan and one in South Carolina. I spoke with two franchisees. Both had done everything I had--found cheaper cups, bowls, spoons, napkins, etc. We had swapped out the mandated Lindt chocolate ball that we had to give with every soup order (which costed 12 cents a piece) with an Ovation thin mint stick (at 5 cents each). One of the owners warned me, "the longer you stay open, the more money you lose".
Fear kept us open. We knew what would happen to us once the business closed. But long hours of hard work and sleepless nights forced us to surrender to the inevitable-- we closed our store.
to be continued.......
After returning from NYC, I hired a business attorney to read the UFOC (Uniform Franchise Offering Circular) and the franchise contract. The UFOC is the disclosure document which is to include all pertinent info that should protect the potential franchisees from buying a bad franchise. Having said that, it ain't necessarily so. We did our due diligence to the best of our ability, as did the other franchisees. (More on due diligence later)
I also worked with the Business Development Center at UCCS, SCORE (Service Corps of Retired Executives) for expert business counseling, wrote a business plan, financial projections, and applied for a SBA loan. Everyone I met was excited about the franchise coming to Colorado Springs and wanted to try the legendary soup.
We signed the contract and began searching for the right location. Anticipation grew with the plans; I was interviewed on the local news and in two newspapers.
A location became available downtown and our attorney reviewed the lease. Once signed, strangers would stop by, peek inside and ask, "Is it soup, yet?" When the build-out of our location was near completion, it was time to train at Corporate's facility in Piscataway, N.J.
The room was set up with two rows of banquet tables with three chairs per table. The director of training began with an overview of our training and then introduced SoupMan's P. R. guy. We were given lessons in public relations and had to chant catch phrases like "it's all about the soup" and " a gourmet meal in a cup". We practiced answering questions in mock interviews, using our catch phrases as often as possible. We trained on our Point of Sales registers, made smoothies, salads, and sandwiches--which we ate at lunch with more soup, each one equally delicious. On the last day of our training, we were quized on everything we had learned that week. SoupMan's Executive Vice President was present after the testing and that gnawing feeling of doom returned. Back home, we commuted to Boulder to work in Colorado's first SoupMan location to get in-store experience. The store appeared to be quite successful and we served a lot of soup and paninis. The week prior to our scheduled opening, we worked late into the night fixing last minute glitches in the build-out. The day finally arrived. The media and a member of the Colorado Springs Council were present at our grand opening. People lined up for the soup... after all... "it was all about the soup". to be continued...
We can either reap the reward of good decisions or face the dire consequences of bad ones.
Consequences On September 9, 1965, Hurricane Betsy hit the city of New Orleans. This hurricane was one of the deadliest and costliest storms to make landfall in the U. S. Betsy killed 75 people and was the first storm to cause over a billion dollars in damages -- inflation has it between 10 - 12 billion by today's values.
Levees along the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet (MRGO) and the Industrial Canal breeched, flooding the Upper and Lower Ninth Ward, part of Gentilly, as well as Arabi and part of Chalmette in St. Bernard Parish. Eight oil platforms were destroyed. Two of them, a Shell platform and an oil rig owned by George H. W. Bush's Zapata Corporation, the Maverick, disappeared into the Gulf of Mexico and not seen again. The name Betsy was retired from the list of storm names.
At the time, my family lived in Arabi and had to be rescued by boat. There was no flood insurance in 1965. Betsy was the storm that created the National Flood Program. I watched my parents rebuild our home and the hardships they endured.
Katrina was far worse. My dad, 91 years old at the time, didn't have the strength to rebuild, again. My family decided not to return to Louisiana. After spending a month at my sister's home in Keystone, we realized if we were to stay in Colorado, we would have to find a place of our own.
We drove to the Red Cross location in Colorado Springs. Our extended family moved into a large apartment complex on the westside of town and began looking for jobs.
We soon discovered why the cost of living and housing was so affordable in such a desirable location. Most jobs don't pay much but we had hitched our Pikes Peak or Bust sign to our little rental car (we were on vacation when Katrina hit, losing our home and all possessions, including our vehicles) and we were determined to make it here.
If salaries were insufficient, maybe we could start a business. (When your entire community is wiped out by a natural disaster, your support system is gone, too; when it comes to making decisions....you're on your own and many decisions are made in a panic).
We contacted a business broker and checked out several existing businesses, including a couple of franchises. The businesses were either too expensive, out of our range of expertise, or didn't meet our financial needs. The franchises had transfer fees, mandates to renovate in addition to the cost of the business. It made more sense to purchase a new franchise.
I searched for new franchises online and discovered one based on the Soup Nazi's Soup Kitchen in Manhattan. Yes, this is Seinfeld's Soup Nazi. The character was based on a real person and this was his soups. It not only seemed like a good idea at the time -- it seemed like a great one.
This new franchise had name recognition. People would be curious to try the soup and if it lived up to its legend, well, we'd sell a lot of soup.
My husband David was traveling back and forth to Louisiana, helping restore the oil refinery where he worked. The company provided the employees with trailers and docked a barge along the levee to provide meals. Everyone had to commute at this time, many like David, from long distances. They worked seven days on, then seven days off.
The appointed "Soup Day" to meet with the franchisor fell in the week David worked in Louisiana. My youngest daughter traveled with me to New York to investigate the franchise and its infamous soup.
We were treated to three of the fifty-five varieties. The soup delivered. There was some trepidation about the franchisor but the soup overpowered any 'gut' feelings.
So, we took our insurance money, bought a small house in Colorado Springs and an Original SoupMan franchise. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Having lived most of my life in southeast Louisiana, I have been an evacuee many times. After Hurricane Katrina, I was a refugee. It took some time -- eight years to accept this.
I hadn't been forced to leave my country and my relocation wasn't due to persecution, war, or violence...ok, maybe violence, if you consider what Katrina did to the city of New Orleans and its neighboring parishes. Yet, I still couldn't relate to being a refugee. I was homeless but surely, this was only temporary.
But natural disasters destroy communities, relationships, and connections to familiar places. Disasters like Katrina rip close-knit communities apart. Those who leave wonder how anyone could possibly stay in such a ravaged place. Those who stay wonder how anyone could abandon their home. Either way, life changed for all who have endured this kind of experience.
Destructive catastrophes also take your personal property, some like family photos and videos can never be replaced. Sometimes they take jobs but mostly they take away our false sense of security -- the illusion that we have control over our lives.
It is a myth that working hard and achieving the American Dream of home ownership provides security in later years. Survivors of natural disasters know that everything you worked for and cherish can be taken in one day -- and in that moment your life will never be the same.
Like many young couples, we bought our starter home, a small post WWII house, when our children were young. We purchased our move-up home as our need for space grew along with our kids. Four years before Katrina, we moved into our empty nest, a smaller house on larger property. We were able to pay cash for this one with the proceeds gained from putting a lot of sweat equity into our larger home.
Mortgage free, we were able to travel more. While on vacation, Hurricane Katrina flooded this house to its rooftop. It took two weeks for the water to recede -- then Hurricane Rita put another eight feet of water into our home.
We had insurance but the cost of replacing everything in a rapidly changing and more expensive world was daunting. One major bad decision made under duress (details later) continued the free fall, leading to a nomadic life.
Eight years after Katrina and I'm still grappling with the need to belong -- to have that connection with people and place where I feel at home. Katrina has taken this from so many of us who lived in her path.
So when August 29, 2013, arrived, old wounds were opened. I continued to suffer through September, as I watched Colorado flood. Although land mass and numbers affected were less than the area in Katrina, those areas flooded were just as decimated. Whole communities, such as Lyons, just outside of Boulder, were destroyed. But the depth of this destruction goes deeper than communities. Within communities are one's tribe, those kindred souls connected to us by spirit, friendship, and love of place.
To physically rebuild whole communities is challenging but to be emotionally connected to a place -- to find the sacredness of that locale and find one's tribe within that place is difficult. It takes time to build connections and we have moved three times since our relocation to Colorado.
My art helps me deal with this. During this emotional time, I thought I'd do a couple of light-hearted paintings that were a play on words -- like Empty Nest. I've never had a painting go so wrong, so fast. My muse's sweet face glared back at me like a Zelda Fitzgerald self portrait.
When I analyzed where I had gone wrong, I realized my subconscious saw a different painting altogether. This painting was about my empty nest (no issues with children growing up and moving out) but my empty, bull-dozed home and the people that no longer lived in my community. The painting had to reflect this. So, after darkening the background skies, I was able to recapture my subject's lovely countenance.
As I stood back and looked at my finished painting, I listened to Tom Petty and focused on the many things I do have -- and know that I don't have to live like a refugee.....
