After 4 years in business I've finally made my 1st dollar
By Benny Gorton
When I was a child, I dreamed of having my first business. I worked for my dad's hardware store in Woonsocket from the time I was 10 until I went away to college to study business in Harrisonburg, Va. I graduated at the top of my class and with a little help from my dad, I opened my first café in Media, Pa in 2003. I used my Italian and French heritage to influence my hidden passion, cooking.
The day I opened I bought a frame for my first dollar. I remember the day my dad earned his first dollar and had me put it in a frame. He told me that it was the proudest day of his life since the day I was born. I wanted to accomplish the same thing.
I found a perfect spot for the frame where I would put my first dollar. Right above the bar, where everyone could see it. All the doubters in the local newspaper and all the Mafioso goons that encountered me said I wouldn't make it. Well, they were wrong. The customers were rolling in. In my first year, I cleared $86,000. I managed to get the dinner crowd and then the young professionals after 10. The place was top notch.
After my first year, the only regret was-I still didn't have a dollar in my frame. It just happened that everyone paid with credit and debit cards. I thought, "Well, maybe this year will be the year." I had an even better year in 2004. We added outdoor seating and I made $102,000 for the year. But still, amazingly, no one paid with cash. I thought being right outside of Philly, someone would pay with cash. But no.
I wasn't going to get too down about it. One night though it got the best of me. I ate at the bar and had a few too many scothes. I saw someone leave a $10 tip for one of my waitresses, Tina. The place was pretty full, but something came over me. I just wanted that bill. So, I casually went over to grab it. Tina got there at the same time. I picked up the 10 spot. So did she. She yanked on it and I yanked on it. She said, "Benny, what the heck. That's my Tip!" I yelled, "I want my first dollar. It's for the frame!" The whole place was looking at us by now. We pulled on it and I did the old "tug-hard-and-let-go" trick. Tina went flying backward with the $10 bill in her hand into the wine rack smashing 30 vintage bottles of wine. The glass came crashing down and a piece stuck her right in the breast and chopped off one of her nipples. I never saw so much blood. How was I to know nipples could bleed like that? While the ambulance was on its way, I desperately rummaged through the remnants for the dollar. But the blood looked like wine and wine like blood. The customers were horrified and I was nauseated. I didn't find the bill and I had to close for a few days. I eventually got sued by Tina for $3.5 million.
I figured the only way to capture my dream was to stay re-open. I went to cash only for a while so I could get the dollar for my frame. But no one came in for 4 days, so I changed the sign on the front to "Cash and Credit, but we prefer cash." Apparently, this caught the suspicion of the IRS, so they started snooping through my records. I was in compliance, but the tax attorney I had to hire cost me a couple of grand. He only took cash too, so I had to go to the bank to get some cash. I must say I was tempted to take one of the dollars from the bank roll for my attorney and put it in the frame. But all I could think of was my dad. He earned his first dollar and I didn't. I was failing my dream.
So, I came up with an idea. I would put a March of Dimes jar on the counter and maybe someone would put some cash in. All I got was change. I thought I saw someone put in some green, so I checked to see what was in there, but when I did, I felt a nudge in my calf. I turned around and it was a small child in a wheelchair and the mayor of Media. I guess it was his kid's birthday so they took him to my place. He grabbed my necktie and told me if I pulled something like that again that he'd get his goons from South Philly to chop off my hand.
The closest I came was on October 22nd, 2007 it almost happened. An astute gentleman with a party of 7 came in the place. I knew this was my chance! This crew racked up $327 in charges. When he came up to the counter to pay, I knocked my 16 year old nephew who was working as our cashier out of the way and took over the transaction. I said, "Well, the Credit Card machine is not working." He said, "No problem!". He opened his wallet and I looked down at my nephew with glee. Everything happened in slow-motion. He pulled out a $1,000 bill. I remember screaming. Screaming for mercy…because I didn't have the change for a bill that size. I screamed, "Noooooo!!!!" and blacked out. Next thing I remember is waking up with blood on my hands and being in a cell. I recall it everyday from right here in my room at Tucker Psychiatric ward.
Luckily, I mutilated myself and no one else during the blackout. I hope to be out of here in a couple of months. My restaurant has since closed down and my liquor and business licenses have been revoked.
The funny thing is you can do odd jobs like landscapiong at the psych ward. I laid out some mulch the other day and the director gave me a dollar. I have it up on my wall and when I get out of here I'm going to put it in my frame. My daddy would be proud.
