How I Got Re(Re)Started in Business

Or Why I Love a Good Turnaround Story

Austin is one of my favorite cities, both in Texas and in the United States. The people are friendly, the weather is warm, it’s got a funky vibe, great restaurants and it is wonderful to jog along the river.

But in 2000, there were enough burning embers from the remains of failed start-up ventures to have kept all of the city’s barbecue joints fueled for months. Granted, brisket “slow cooked over oak” sounds a lot tastier than “slow cooked over dot.com remnants” but, maybe with a good enough sauce, it would sell.

At the extreme ends of start-up experiences, there are those folks who made fortunes in a pretty small period of time and those folks who ended up stone broke and living out of a sleeping bag. I suspect the majority of people who were involved in start ups in that era did not fall into either of those extremes.

I, however, did.

If you are wondering which extreme it was, I’ll give you a hint: if you are picking out a sleeping bag, make sure that it is comfortable from the start. Those things don’t really have a break in period.

Eventually, I ended up at a Greyhound bus station with a one-way ticket to Dallas and a duffle bag full of clothes. I had about a hundred dollars left over from some money my big brother had sent me, the rest of which had gone to getting my first cell phone. How a broke, unemployed, homeless kid was deemed credit-worthy enough to be able to get a cell phone is beyond me, but I think that was the period in which they were signing up anyone with a pulse. ?

On the plus side, I had arranged two weeks on a futon at a friend from college’s house. From sleeping bag to futon? Damn, I was already heading in the right direction.

My friend Rob picked me up from the Greyhound bus station and had already lined up a couple of places where I could get work as a waiter and said he even had a lead on a possible sales job.

Now, going from high-flying start-up valuations to waiting tables may seem like a bit of a come down. And, well, it is. Though I never did wait a table. Which is probably for the best because I suspect my ability to balance a large tray was pretty limited. ?

Instead, by sheer chance, I ended up having lunch that first week in Dallas with a gentlemen named Mike who had been an old client of my Mom once upon a time.

Mike and his wife and their partner had a modular construction business. Which, if you are picturing a bunch of portable classrooms and other such glamorous edifices? Congratulations - you are in the right ballpark.

My Mom suggested that, since I was in Dallas anyway, I look Mike up. She thought we had similar senses of humor and entrepreneurial spirits. I gave him a call and we arranged to meet up at Kuby’s, which was a German restaurant near Southern Methodist University.

I was now sleeping on a futon and I was going to actually eat lunch for the first time in a long time. Things were definitely improving in Dallas.

Mike and me did hit it off famously. As we got to know each other, I shared a bit about my journey in business so far which included a spell as living semi-dangerously in Indonesia and some start-ups in the U.S. When he asked me what I might do next, I mentioned I was thinking of heading to Houston where I had some interviews lined up at a couple of the larger Oil & Gas companies

I remember Mike shaking his head and saying, “You don’t want to do that, you’re an entrepreneur! You want to be building businesses!”

He then laid out a thought, “We’re thinking of recapitalizing and I need someone to come in and help me create a plan for what to do with the business, how we can grow more and how we can improve our profits.”

Mike went on, “I have people who build buildings, and people who sell buildings, but I don’t have anyone who works with me on the business. Why don’t you come on board for a few months? I’m not going to hire a big consulting firm but I could use the help and it will put a little money in your pockets and give you time to figure out what you want to do next.”

This was a pretty good offer.

All things considered it was a great offer.

Granted, things like “few months” and “little money” hadn’t really been defined but the nice thing about having nothing is that you have very little left to lose.

At the end of the day, he was right. I like building businesses. I like helping people. And I like doing things that are hands on. It really was a great offer.

Mike’s main concern was that I not let anyone know what I was doing. “Just tell them you are helping me out on something” was what he said if any of the employees asked me what I was doing around the business. Admittedly, that was not a particularly elaborate cover story but what it lacked in detail it made up for in being easy to remember.

Mike gave me a couple of bucks and I was able to say goodbye to Rob and his generous spirit and move into a room at the Royal Inn in Southern Dallas across I-35 from the plant. Even at the time, I knew this was not the nicest place in the world. I think that on the first Saturday I was there the police showed up at least twice to take people away.

On the other hand, it had a bed. An actual bed.

From a sleeping bag to a futon to a bed. I was on a roll!

That Sunday, after walking over to the Waffle House for lunch – I was really starting to spoil myself with regular meals – as I was preparing to embark on the adventure of helping Mike with his business stating the next day, my cell phone rang. ?It was Mike.

“What are your thoughts on painting fences?” he said without much preamble.

This was not a question I was expecting. Seriously, unless you are in the fencing industry or Tom Sawyer, it’s just not the type of the question that the average person is prepared to have come up in conversation.

In my mind, all I could think of was, “whatever needs doing, I’m going to do. I just need to get my foot in the door and go from there.”

So I said, “I don’t have any problems painting fences.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” Mike said.

He went on, “Because around this time of year, we usually hire a couple of people to call all the school districts in the South to get a handle on their building plans for the upcoming school year. Babs” – Babs was his wife and also the Company’s president and its best salesperson – “suggested that we offer you one of those spots. That way you can really see the business from the ground up. And” – a big dramatic pause – “we’ll pay you $14 an hour.”

This was a bit of a curve ball but I was game and I figured that $14 an hour settled the question of the ‘little money’ I’d make.

“I can do that,” I said.

“Great!” he responded enthusiastically. “You’ll start tomorrow and after you knock off calls at 5pm, we can spend the rest of our time focused on the business.”

“I’ll be there,” I said. “But” ?- I had to know – “What does calling school districts have to do with painting fences?”

“Well, hell,” Mike’s booming laugh came down the line, “I figured anyone who would be willing to paint fences would consider telemarketing a step up in the world!”

The telemarketing went out for about six weeks. I’d finish around 5pm. And then we’d work on the business itself until 9 or 10, often grabbing dinner. We’d meet up on the weekends too. After the second month, I had moved into an honest-to-goodness apartment and things were well on their way.

I ended up sticking around for quite a while; there was a lot to do. Despite modular construction not necessarily being the sexiest industry in the world, we were able to bring on some absolutely brilliant people, many of whom went on to even greater things. Together, we went through two private equity transactions and grew revenues from $35M to $180M in four years.

I got to be involved in pretty much every aspect of the running the business as Mike’s right-hand and it was about as good an education as a person who is interested in the nuts and bolts of building and running a business could every wish for.

And while nobody has asked me if I would be willing to paint fences in a very long time, if they did, the answer would still be yes. Sometimes you just need a foot in the door.