Having owned 3 businesses now, and hoping soon to move onto a fourth I've noticed something about myself. I like the interaction with people, I like being around people, and being the center of attention. Of course I've always sort of been that way, that's probably why I own businesses instead of working for others. But after all the hassles, and the headaches, and the dealing with the 15% of people that make life miserable for everyone, I've started to worry that it's making me a little crazy. Seriously.
I don't know how to fix this. Is this what happens to business owners? Does it evolve over time? Is it from dealing with the public, or having employees? I like people in general, I really do. But I like them even more when they do what I say. It sounds crazy right?
Do all business owners, CEO's, and managers get like this? Do you just get so used to people doing what you tell them that you just expect it from everyone? Or is the pressure, and the stress causing it? You wouldn't think tanning would be all that stressful, and really it isn't. The act of tanning itself isn't stressful, but owning the business can be. I have to find a way to switch this off. There must be a way. Hey I'm even gonna give myself the "Asshole" tag.
Recognizing the problem is the first step right? I don't mean crazy in the sense like I'm seeing things, or hallucinating or anything nutso like that. But I find myself talking to people, like customers for instance, and seeing them only as customers. Objects. Give me your money, tan, and get out. I don't think about them at all once they walk out the door. Not one iota. You might think that sounds normal, but we're a customer-centric kinda business. There are people that have been coming here since the day we opened so I've literally known them for years. How come I don't care about them? I've become so hard towards people now that I have very little, to no empathy for them.
Not far from here, one customer drunkenly walked in front of a train on the way home from a local bar. C.K. was his name. Obviously he was killed. I liked him. We got along well. He was a straight shooter, an ex-boxer, sort of a rough around the edges kind of guy. You knew what you were getting from him. There was no pretense. If he didn't like you you knew it. Likewise if he liked you, you knew it too. In mobster movies he'd be a "stand up guy". And yet I never think about him until I drive past the makeshift shrine they built for him out of flowers near the spot where he was killed. I suppose it's normal in that instance but it seems to go much deeper than that for me. I don't know.
Maybe I just need a long vacation.
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