It was a very simple idea, back in Coconut Grove, Florida. For whatever reason, it was a normal day, yet this day my mom decided to give me a challenge:
“For every bucket of rocks you take from their spot in the front yard, and put in the backyard I will give you 5 bucks.”
I remember the big tall white bucket well, with its metal handle but with that circular piece of plastic that was attached to the handle so it wouldn’t bother your hands quite as much – Whoever invented the idea of putting that cylinder of plastic on those metal handles should have gotten an award.
I don’t know why the rocks needed to be moved. One of my Mom’s many projects. She always had a “project.” Looking back my brother and I were probably her biggest projects. Harder to spec out on a drawing that you could stick on the wall.
But on this day the task was simple. Get those rocks in that magical plain white bucket – deliver them to the backyard. Repeat.
We were clearing out the rocks for another exciting huge pile of mulch that had not yet arrived in our yard.
I don’t know if she underestimated me, or those rocks just seemed heavier then they actually were. But after about 4 or 5 buckets my mom realized she had made a terrible miscalculation. And began the awkward conversation that entails the not so subtle art of “renegotiation.”
“OK so I will still honor the $5 for the buckets you already did. But going forward every new bucket will be $1”
You would think that this massive 80% pay cut would have slowed me down, but it did not. I was stocking away money to buy tickets for the games at the summer festival. So any source of income for an 8 year old, especially one that didn’t even require me to get on my bike and leave the confines of my yard, was just fine by me.
But more importantly, looking back, I was hooked. Maybe not hooked on money, but hooked on that magical idea that the white bucket and my desire could make me money.
I had the bug. Business … entreprenuership … whatever you would call it as, it never really went away after that day with the rocks in the bucket. After the Mulch and the rocks were both over I would ask my mom for more work. I think I ended up with a 5 dollar a week allowance if I did my chores, but that was a lousy spot for me.
Habits were never my thing, hustle always was. Whether my mom knew it or not she had given birth to a hustler that day.
But it never got as simple as that tall bucket of rocks.
Once I got a bit older the gig turned to car washes. 5 bucks for the outside including the wheels.
I was still chasing that $5 bucket – except this time the bucket was shorter, yellow, and contained old cloths and soapy water. I think I hit a point where my mom finally made me start buying my own “Dawn” which was the dish soap she always used, because she kept running out.
My “cost of goods sold” had gone up. Needed to buy my own soap and some more towels.
So better increase the price. Back then 5 bucks was about as high as I thought i could go in the neighborhood, so the next innovation was born.
“Mom can I borrow your dustbuster?”
Pretty sure it was a light brown Dustbuster. But it worked like a charm.
And so the “upsell” was born.
“I can wash the outside of the car for $5 or you can get the combo job, “outside and inside” for $10.
And I was hooked again.
So hooked that often my best friend would come by and we would go wash cars before we would play video games. You see, then you can split up the work: one guy vacuums on the inside (with the doors closed), while the other guy does the outside.
Quicker turn, but less take home pay. And yeah don’t worry we still played a crap ton of video games.
And so the entrepreneur was born. Mainly when I read origin stories its a summer job, or a mentor, or a great boss, or an internship.
For me it was just a white bucket on a Saturday morning and a big pile of rocks.
And a little nudge from Mom…
– SDM
Simpletition - Shawn D. Madden 