"Small Business"

by Joe Dixon

Like every other paralegal I’ve ever known, I didn’t become one in hopes of one day passing the bar. I couldn’t care less about pursuing a career in law. I became a paralegal because I thought I could make some cash while I ventured into the wonderful world of dick jokes and endless variations on the difference between black people and white people. But then, also like a lot of paralegals I’ve known, I got laid off. Which meant hustling for another job I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about. Because doing standup comedy in America’s number one terrorist target means always having to say you do something else for a living.

At least until you win Star Search.

So I looked and looked and I found another job. I don’t hate it... mindless busy work though it maybe. But it’s still not what I want to be doing. And not for the first time it dawned on me that if I’m going to have to do work that I don’t want to do, why don’t I at least make it a job where I’m the boss? I can set my own hours. I can go to auditions at any time and stay late after shows instead of rushing off to get up early in the morning. It all sounded pretty good.

With that in mind, I took a class at the Learning Annex about starting your own business. In case you don’t know, The Learning Annex is an institution that offers classes to adults who aren’t bright enough to find better ways to spend their money. And speaking of money, I should point out that right now New York is suffering record level unemployment. Businesses are boarding up faster than Bush can say, "Weapons of Mass Destruction," and the city is in its worse financial shape in a long time. In other words, the environment is great for starting a small business.

That’s sarcasm in case you missed it.

The class had only seven people, including myself. The most important thing I learned was that both the Internet and the Small Business Administration offers, for free, the same information I was paying for. Clearly, I was off to a good start as a business man.

I really didn’t have a firm idea of what I wanted to do when I walked in. When the instructor asked what kind of business I was interested in running, I blurted out that I wanted to run a restaurant that sold only cold cereals: Trix, Captain Crunch, Raisin Bran, etc. I’d call it "Cereal Box" and charge about $2 a bowl.

Everyone in class seemed very taken with my idea including the teacher. Yes, I thought, I’d sell cereal and have time to do comedy. What could be better? Sure, I’ve never worked in a restaurant in my life. But what the hell, how hard could it be? I eat plenty of cold cereal. That would be qualification enough! It wasn’t till later in class that it was pointed out that to get a loan from the bank I would have to put up thirty thousand of my own money.

Thirty thousand!? If I had that type of money, I wouldn’t be trying to start my own business.

Well, I figured. I had a good idea anyway, so maybe SBA would still help me get a loan. I called them and it turned out they were having a free workshop on starting a small business. I decided I would go. The week before I called up a friend of mine who was in the restaurant biz and asked him if he’d be interested in working on this idea with me. It would be perfect, we’d form a corporation, he’d run the thing and I’d put in my time when I wasn’t doing my standup.

He declined.

That bothered me. I thought, well, maybe I wasn’t meant to run a restaurant. After all, a lot of things go into getting something like that off the ground. Then I had a new brain storm: I’d open up a bookstore. Not just any bookstore but a bookstore dedicated to comedy. Yes, that’s it. And I’ve worked in a bookstore before. I’ve got experience! I’d call the place "The New York Humorist" and I’d sell books and CDs and movies all dedicated to comedy and in the back there would be a performance space for open mics. It was pure genius.

I decided to call this bookstore that specialized in crime fiction and find out how much it costs to open a specialty shop. They sunk $100,000 into the creation of their store. Half of it through loans from SBA. Which means they had $50,000 to start.

$50,000?! Holy hell, who's got 50 grand? I’m doing all of this so I can have the type of money to do what I want to do. If I already had that type of roll I wouldn’t be bothering with any of this.

Okay, scratch the bookstore. I’ll sell cereal after all. That doesn’t cost much to sell people cold cereal. I don’t need that big a space for that. I’d sell it like Mr. Softee. That’s it. Right. I’d sell cold cereal out of a van like people sell ice cream. I’m brilliant. I can afford a van. And even if I couldn’t, I can certainly get a loan for that.

I was back in business! I’d travel to gigs in my cereal van. I’d give headliners lifts and after shows sell the crowd Mini-Wheats and Cheerios. I could see it now. It would be great.

I just need to learn how to drive.