Take the Meeting

Years ago I visited one of our investors (let’s call him Matt) in Los Angeles and, deep into a driving tour of west Hollywood, Matt informed me we’d be meeting a guy later for dinner and drinks.

“Who?” I replied.

“Eh, just a guy”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Just a guy. Don’t worry about it.”

As evening arrived we slid into a red leather booth at Dan Tana’s Italian restaurant and ordered Vespers, a concoction of gin, vodka, and Lillet. Lillet is a French aperitif made with white wine, fruits and herbs. Together it makes for a refreshing beverage - in a smelling salts sort of way. I didn’t appreciate then how much I would need them later.

Again I asked who we were meeting.

“His name’s Isaac and he wants to open a barbecue restaurant”

“Where?”

“Nashville, I think,” said Matt.

In our corner of the commercial real estate world, retail property leasing and development, one spends lots of time meeting otherwise harmless folks that are peddling bad ideas. It’s part of the deal: kiss a lot of frogs and somewhere along the line find a plausible deal.

I could already tell this would be dinner and drinks with a frog.

“Here he is,” Matt said as he got up to hug a large man dressed in a tight black turtleneck, cowboy boots, and hair slicked back into a ponytail. He held a folder of paperwork.

I operate under the theory that the only men who should wear a ponytail are recumbent bike riders, health food store proprietors, and your defense lawyer (if you’re guilty). Isaac seemed amiable enough so I set aside my suspicions as he squeezed himself into the booth.

Matt cuts through the small talk and said, “Isaac, talk about your plans for the barbecue concept.”

After a few fits and starts, with his eyes darting around the dark room to make sure no one was spying, Isaac lowered his voice and said, “Let me go back to the beginning, but first a short funny story…”

At this point I realized I had a talker on my hands and the story was going to be neither short nor funny.

I tried, with limited success, to pay attention as Isaac murmured in tedious detail about finding an old barbecue joint somewhere in Mississippi or west Tennessee called Bozo’s BBQ. After much wrangling, he acquired the business and had big plans to grow it into a worldwide brand.

Matt wore a grin I’d seen before as his eyes shifted from Isaac to me and back again.

“Let’s see the renderings,” Matt said, sensing I was about to collapse of boredom.

Isaac opened his dog-eared manila folder and unfolded a 24” x 36” illustration of his restaurant vision. Startled at first by what I can only describe as an “early American bordello” design with velvet walls, chintz draperies, and oversized Victorian upholstered armchairs, I then resigned myself to a state of compassion and sorrow over what he must’ve spent to create those crazy drawings.

Matt continued to grin and nod, watching me from the corner of his eye as Issac described the pig gargoyles and how (pausing for effect) the tables would rotate into the walls, opening the whole place up to become a live music dance hall.

It was the single worst idea I’d ever heard.

The problem with these situations - after a prospective tenant reveals their plan and it’s evident their lack of experience is only outweighed by their lack of capital and common sense - is getting out of them and somehow begging off without shattering their hopes and dreams. Finding an off ramp before they ask for money or space to rent is a necessary skill in our line of work.

Matt, seeing my face deaden, jumped in and said “Isaac, talk a little about your restaurant background.”

Isaac looked bewildered; I guess he assumed I knew. “Well, in 1971, I opened a restaurant in London called the Hard Rock Café…”

Matt chortled as my eyes got bigger as Isaac explained the original Hard Rock Cafe concept and how it was a birthplace for bands and how everyone was broke so the bands would stay with him, his wife, and young child in their apartment. Bands like the Stones and the Eagles. Isaac told stories about getting high with Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. He told how Keith Moon lived with them and taught Isaac’s son to play the drums.

“And then how about after Hard Rock?”, Matt prompted.

Isaac went on to describe creating House of Blues with Dan Aykroyd, and the stories continued - how he was a pallbearer at Johnny Cash’s funeral, and his friendship with Waylon Jennings. I sat there starry-eyed, an enchanted Isaac groupie.

We talked for hours, or at least Isaac did, staying until closing time when I told him what a genius idea Bozo’s BBQ was and how I couldn’t wait to get involved.

Postscript:

Hard Rock Café and House of Blues had spun out of Isaac’s control and in the end weren’t much more than mass purveyors of t-shirts and cheeseburgers, but in the beginning they were radical ideas that gave a platform to artists. What he created changed the world, twice. Meeting someone who could do that and had such a genuine passion for their craft is a rare opportunity.

We never ended up making a deal with Bozo’s - and I’m not sure what ever happened to Isaac or the idea - but I’m glad I took the meeting.