Tom tells me that he wants to start a new business. He's got a plan, and everything. I take a look at the business plan and, peeping over my reading glasses, casually ask him, "Why are you opening this restaurant?"
First, he says, "I don't know." Which is always such a good sign.
Then, he says, "Well, to tell the truth, I really want to make more money than I'm making in my job."
OK, reasonable enough. Plenty of us would like to make more money. Got it. But I've got to dig a little.
"Why? Why do you want to make more money?" I probe.
There's a pause.
Isn't it interesting? Sometimes it seems that we all throw around ideas like, "more money" or "thinner" or "Nantucket" with the expectation that everyone not only understands but wants the same thing. It's as if we use a collective shorthand - but who questions the "why" of the wanting?
Finally, after a prolonged silence, he says, "I have friends who are very successful, and they have the money to do things I can't do. I want to be able to keep up with them. That's why I want more money. And when I think about what I love, I came up with food and friends and so I thought about a restaurant..."











