Triumph and tragedy. Success and failure. Accolades and rebukes. Pats on the back and punches to the gut. All thematic concepts that define our lives; all bona fide realities that define my days. Is it possible to truly appreciate the thrill of victory without experiencing the agony of defeat? Let that bounce your cerebral cortex. It seems that I can reach the highest of highs and the lowest of lows all before lunch on any given day. My collegiate philosophy professor posed the question: “how can you know the fulfillment of one extreme until you’ve experienced the fulfillment of the opposite extreme?” Think about that for a moment: can you truly know what pleasure is if you’ve never experienced pain?
Restaurant life is chock full of romanticism and idealism; and for good reason. The notion of being the proprietor of the “place to be” is hard to shake. Who amongst us doesn’t want to be like Sam Malone of Cheers, heralded as the focal point of people’s delight? My chest puffs and my smile lengthens when people tell me how much they enjoy coming to The Tap Exchange; I will never deny that. But then there are times when I hear somebody tell me how disappointed they are in their visit to the pub. No chest puffing now; only a sour burn deep in my gut because, for whatever reason, I have failed them. I take this very personal; and I’m not yet sure if that’s a good thing.
Being a restaurateur is not for the faint of heart. As my contemporaries will attest, it takes some big cajones to endure this lifestyle. I don’t say that flippantly or as a badge of honor; it’s just truth. Sometimes it seems we are driven to chase that which doesn’t want to be caught. It is that pursuit that gets me out of bed every day, and I would not trade it for any other objective.
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