One month in and we’re ok.
We didn’t know what to expect from Scarborough, so when the lines began to form and stretch toward our front door we were more than surprised. We were in the weeds. No time for advertising. I had this whole plan that we were go from business to business with samples. That I would blog every day and people would read it and love us and feel like they know us and want to meet us. But at the end of a three hour rush, while I’m scarfing down lunch- a “mess-up” wrap and half a broken cookie, I can only think about the next twenty minutes.
About dishes that need washed and tables that are crumby. About cookies that need baking and tomatoes to be sliced. Everything is so fast, and I love it because we need the business and I hate it because I spend more time bent over a cutting board than interacting with people.
Today I saw a review online- one of those sites where people can go in and report on their eating experience. He said that our food was bad and we weren’t friendly. And my heart just dropped out of my chest onto floors that need sweeping.
"Don’t cry," Rich says, and I wasn’t going to, but my feelings are hurt. Like when you tell a boy that you have a crush on him and he laughs about it with his friends. The rejection of some person I don’t even know and will (obviously) never see again stings. Because I wonder if it’s true. Maybe our food really is terrible. Maybe we’re not nice people. I’m embarrassed for us, and I’m worried that everyone will see this
review.
I’m scooping giant chocolate chip cookies as my mind gets crazy. They’ll stop coming to our shop, I think to myself, and within a month we’ll end up broke and alone, watching cable TV until they finally disconnect it.
I don’t know what to do with negative feedback. It stresses me out. And, amidst my thoughts of panic and disappointment I hear this quiet voice, one I barely recognize, and I am reminded that each day is new. Each Day. That all I’m asked to do is the very best that I can. That we can. So tonight I’m still a little bit sad. But I’m not defensive and I’m not defeated.
We didn’t know what to expect from Scarborough, so when the lines began to form and stretch toward our front door we were more than surprised. We were in the weeds. No time for advertising. I had this whole plan that we were go from business to business with samples. That I would blog every day and people would read it and love us and feel like they know us and want to meet us. But at the end of a three hour rush, while I’m scarfing down lunch- a “mess-up” wrap and half a broken cookie, I can only think about the next twenty minutes.
About dishes that need washed and tables that are crumby. About cookies that need baking and tomatoes to be sliced. Everything is so fast, and I love it because we need the business and I hate it because I spend more time bent over a cutting board than interacting with people.
Today I saw a review online- one of those sites where people can go in and report on their eating experience. He said that our food was bad and we weren’t friendly. And my heart just dropped out of my chest onto floors that need sweeping.
"Don’t cry," Rich says, and I wasn’t going to, but my feelings are hurt. Like when you tell a boy that you have a crush on him and he laughs about it with his friends. The rejection of some person I don’t even know and will (obviously) never see again stings. Because I wonder if it’s true. Maybe our food really is terrible. Maybe we’re not nice people. I’m embarrassed for us, and I’m worried that everyone will see this
review.
I’m scooping giant chocolate chip cookies as my mind gets crazy. They’ll stop coming to our shop, I think to myself, and within a month we’ll end up broke and alone, watching cable TV until they finally disconnect it.
I don’t know what to do with negative feedback. It stresses me out. And, amidst my thoughts of panic and disappointment I hear this quiet voice, one I barely recognize, and I am reminded that each day is new. Each Day. That all I’m asked to do is the very best that I can. That we can. So tonight I’m still a little bit sad. But I’m not defensive and I’m not defeated.
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