The Bar Next Door

Yesterday, the owner of the bar next door came into my shop again.

He often comes in to have posters printed for his events. His bar regularly hosts live music, and from time to time, film companies rent the place as a filming location.

We have known each other for a while, but our conversations are usually quite short. He comes in with a poster, we talk about the size and the paper, and then he goes back to the bar.

Yesterday, however, I became curious about something.

I asked him:

“Do you have a Loto machine in your bar?”

In Montreal bars, lottery and gaming machines can be an important part of the business for some owners. I've heard stories of bars where the machines generate so much revenue that they become a major reason for keeping the business going.

For some owners, the money from the machines can practically carry the business, while the revenue from selling drinks goes toward paying employees, rent, electricity, and the other everyday expenses.

So I was curious.

My neighbour told me that his bar used to have Loto machines.

Then he got rid of all of them.

“I just want to sell drinks and food,” he told me.

Then he added something that caught my attention:

“I made a choice about the kind of customers I want. I don't want to serve everybody.”

I liked the simplicity of that sentence.

Running a small business is often described as a matter of finding more customers.

More customers.

More sales.

More revenue.

More ways to make money.

But my neighbour had done almost the opposite.

He had removed something that could bring money into his business because he wanted his bar to be a certain kind of place.

A place for food.

A place for drinks.

A place for music.

A place where sometimes a film crew arrives and transforms the room into something completely different for a few days.

And, apparently, a place without gaming machines.

Of course, every business owner has to make calculations. Rent has to be paid. Employees have to be paid. Electricity doesn't become free just because the owner has a philosophy about his business.

But perhaps there is another calculation that doesn't appear on a balance sheet.

What kind of place do you want to run?

What kind of people do you want walking through your door?

And what kind of atmosphere do you want to create?

My neighbour had apparently answered those questions for himself.

He wasn't trying to make his bar suitable for everyone.

He was choosing what he wanted his bar to be.

I found that interesting.

Maybe that's one of the privileges—and sometimes one of the difficulties—of owning a small business.

You don't always have to accept every possible source of revenue.

Sometimes you can say no.

Even when saying no costs you money.

Yesterday, he came to my shop because he needed another poster printed.

I printed it for him.

Then he went back next door, where the music, the food, the drinks, and whatever film crew might arrive next will continue to make the place what he has chosen it to be.

Just next door.