Excerpt from Dino's new book:
Like I said…lousy winters in towns with an ocean view are just part of the annual rollercoaster rectal ride. But there’s gonna be entire years when you’re stretched thin as Stein’s corn beef. When your exposed derriere is hangin half over the dempsey dumper. When you’re just one long ticket time away from being another indie restaurant casualty.
My ole man waded through 20 or 30 funky years. Like a one-leg man on an economic hamster wheel he went in and outta business a dozen times and never flinched. But he never drank the Kool-aid, he was a different breed of cat.
He smiled and survived…Hookworm epidemics, polio epidemics, hurricanes of every category, breech births, breach of contracts, drawbridge failures, power failures, grease fires, botched ectomies, highway construction, outbreak of war, food walkin out the back door,boycotts cause we served black patrons, re-cessions, de-pressions, gas shortages, stagnation, hyper inflation, apron rash...he even endured mom crashing her dyna-flow Buick through the wall of the restaurant and his mother-in-law opening right across the street with the same menu using money his wife Angie had squirreled from him. But like I said, he was a different breed of cat.
So git ready Mister or Miss meter-dee cause the suck-egg economy is gonna getcha. Sure as your béarnaise is gonna break at 8pm, the shorts are gonna getcha sooner than later. Yea, the food biz offers a million ways to be stoned like a biblical whore.
So before you jump in with both slip-proof feet, ask yourself. Self, can I financially weather one entire shitty year? Can I bleed money all year, pay my staff, cover my rent, expenses and come back to fight another day?
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