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The Mousetrap

The mousetrap


  If money is considered "cheese" then I definitely was a mouse chasing it for a long time.

  I grew up in hustle culture before it was called "hustle culture" and I honed my skills in the barbershops and hair salons I had worked in.   When my time at Mo Betta Cuts ended, I went back to Lords and Ladies salon.  I had a clientele that followed me back to the mall, and I had  to readjust to the monetary structure at that establishment.   

  At Mo betta, we were commissioned barbers, and received 50% of our generated income and tips went directly to us, this is an industry standard.    Lords and Ladies was a chain that took taxes with a lower commission structure, but high commission on retail sales.   After a few months of consistent work and client retention, I had a clash with the manager.  She insisted that a client remove her child from the store because he was crying and making a scene while I was booking his mother an appointment.  I spoke out against her attitude and showed my disappointment.   We got into a back and forth argument. I was appalled by her condescending tone to me and the customer and as a result of that argument I was asked not to come back.

  I had options where I could go work, but my ambition and embarrassment led me to entrepreneurship.   

  I never had aspirations to be a business owner, or obtain a lifestyle where I would be counting every penny and paper towel but that’s what happened.   

  I took my last paycheck, some money I had saved, and borrowed some money from friends and family to open up my first salon called

Corey Jamal Hair Studio.





I started off with 3 chairs and 3 stations in roughly 400 square feet.  I decorated the shop with art from Pier 1 imports and my personal African art collection. I had my first of many trips to Home Depot for materials to renovate the floors, and paint the walls.  I enlisted the help from some of my friends to help me do some of the painting and renovations.    It was tedious but gratifying work.  I was very happy with the results and felt like I had created a space that was comfortable for me to work my best. 

It was in no time that I started to grow a bigger clientele, and along with the clientele came more barbers and stylist looking for a place to work. Within 18 months my three chair salon grew to a 6 chair salon that was thriving with business and I wanted to make sure everyone was prosperous and comfortable.



   I was making more money than I had ever made and night life and parties started to be a regular thing. I had begun this journey young, sober and hopeful and I was beginning to frequent nightclubs 4 days a week.  I started to drink more frequently and my attitude began to shift with challenging situations like staff leaving to pursue other opportunities and conflicts which turned into a walk out on a busy Saturday.   

Throughout my frustration with relationships my business continued to grow stayed and the people around me supported my decisions, even when I would find relief on the dance floor and any bar or club that would have me.   

I even started to host gatherings in the shop after hours, which was fun, until a few incidents of unwanted guest started to occur.



I guess I’ll leave those stores for another post.

  

In he midst of all this chaos I thought it would be a good idea to move my shop to a bigger and better location.  


I start scouting locations and found a spot 6 blocks away.   It was going to be an easy transition.  I met with the building management, agreed to terms, gave my deposit and signed a 4 year lease.   I was now committed to this new location and its development.

  The excitement of a new deal overshadowed the stress that was I feeling deep below the surface and although my clientele and friends encouraged me, I was afriad of failing.

  I would finish work at the main location and walk 6 blocks to the next location and do renovations of the space until the early hours of the night.   





       

   One night as I was making my trek down Main st.  I kicked a paper bag that was on the sidewalk.  The bad didn’t fly into the air like expected, instead it flipped over and landed heavy.  My curiosity spiked and I went over to the bag and poked with my foot and then cautiously peeled back the paper bag to discover a large package of drugs that someone had lost. 


I thought to myself, " shit, it’s my lucky night, this could finance all of my renovations and supplement my income"  

It would do way more than that,  it would start me down a path of madness.

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