Due Diligence
I never thought I’d be the type to get excited about profit margins and espresso machines, but here I was at 58, diving headfirst into the coffee business.
Every morning for three weeks straight, I woke up at 5 AM to shadow Eleanor before the shop opened.
I learned how to pull the perfect espresso shot, how to steam milk without scalding it, and most importantly, how to make customers feel like they belonged.
Evenings were spent hunched over Eleanor’s financial records, analyzing seasonal patterns and identifying missed opportunities. I even enrolled in a weekend barista certification course where I was easily twenty years older than everyone else.
The instructor, a tattooed thirty-something named Marco, initially gave me skeptical looks but changed his tune when I mastered latte art faster than his hipster students.
‘You’ve got steady hands,’ he commented, impressed by my rosetta pattern. ‘Experience counts for something after all.
‘ I took meticulous notes on everything – from which local bakeries delivered the freshest pastries to how Eleanor handled difficult customers with grace.
One afternoon, as I was creating a spreadsheet of equipment maintenance schedules, Eleanor placed her hand on my shoulder. ‘You remind me of myself thirty years ago,’ she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘This place needs someone who cares about details.’ Her words validated everything I’d been through – all those years of being overlooked and undervalued suddenly felt like perfect training for this moment.
What Eleanor told me next about the shop’s hidden potential would completely transform my vision for what ‘Common Grounds’ could become.