So everywhere in the Free World is in credit crunch precipitated shrinkage meltdown. Thankfully for those of us whom refuse to participate in the recession, the world ought not stop turning. The other Saturday I spent a most pleasant evening with a few pals drowning our sorrows over the cluelessness of England’s rugby team after the bitter taste of a walloping at the hands of the Boks.
One of my mates runs a thriving pub business. His places tend to be in the trendy London ‘burbs, frequented by hipsters and scenesters with cash to burn. His response to the upcoming economic armageddon was to continually invest. This is an approach mooted by the experts as vital to long-term success.
He’d recently taken over one extremely well-known juicer. He reckoned that it had become tired, and with a little more TLC could quickly recapture its heyday. He closed the doors for a couple of days, sanded down the floor, put in most enticing fixed seating around the walls, and gave the whole place a new coat of paint. As well as the aesthetics, he noted that they’d been competing on price. So he changed prices, generally meaning they all went up, roughly 50p extra a pint.
In the few weeks since re-opening, he was pleased that only three punters had apparently “noticed” the price rise. Not only that, but overall, he’d practically doubled the pub’s takings.
Of course, pub visitors are a fickle crowd, and who’s to say that in a couple of weeks time another local establishment won’t take trade with a makeover of their own. But the facts are crystal clear. The increased profit in just five weeks has paid for the renovations. Everything else from now is big time bonus. And judging by the happy, bubblin’ clientele there last Saturday night, thoroughly deserved.