M&Ms: Snow Business

A story from one of the biggest snow storms that hit NYC.

It's time for a story from back in the day.

Picture this: It was a time of the Super Nintendo on your tube screen T.V. 

Your dad flips off your Donkey Kong Country because there is an emergency announcement on the news. 

The grainy 27-inch family RCA now read: "Severe Weather Alert."

The newsman passes it to Linda Church at The Weather Center on channel 11. But as the camera pans out, it shows Supermarket Shoppers emptying out every single shelf in the tri-state area. 

Linda gets on and says, "Total snowfall by tomorrow morning will be 18 to 24 inches."

The first thought that crosses my mind is, "Holy moly, we aren't going to have school for like a week!" 

The next thought is, "I gotta call my cousin Johnny. We're gonna make bank!" 

But the phone's already ringing. I pick up the landline, and a crazy high-pitched voice is shouting, "Yoooo! Come sleep over tonight! So we can be ready to go in the morning!" 

My cousin, whose family emigrated to the U.S. before ours, got lucky & lived in the rich part of The Bronx, Riverdale. I live in the poor part, which was pretty much the rest of it. 

But all that didn't matter because, after this snowstorm, we were both gonna be rich.

Me & Johnny recently reminiscing about those days

And get this: neither one of us was old enough to work for anyone else back then. I was around 12, and my cousin 13. The legal age to work in New York, with parental permission, was 14.

But there was nothing in the books on age limits and going into business for yourself. 

The next day, we went house to house, offering to shovel stairs, driveways, and cars covered in snow. And Riverdale is packed with older home owners who either don't want to or, unfortunately, might not have the strength to clean their own driveways. So we were like heroes.

I still remember my cousin starting us off with the sales process. He is way more extroverted. He goes up to the first house and rings the bell, "Would you like us to clean your stairs and driveway? We're charging $25 for a driveway this size."

But then we'd start working, and our little arms would get tired. And I'd yell at my cousin, "Man, we need to charge more. This is a lot of work!" He'd shout back, "OK, then, you sell the next one!" 

But I've found that nothing gets an introvert like myself out of his shell, like the feeling that I might not be making enough or making what I deserve. I get fired up and immediately become a huge extrovert when it comes to money.

So, on the next house, I'd ring the bell, and I'd double the rate. 

I'd say something along the lines of, "Hello, we are shoveling stairs and driveways today. And we are charging 50 dollars for a house your size." 

Then the woman at the door would say, "50 dollars! That's a lot of money!" And she was right. It was a lot of money back in the 90s. 

But I'd respectfully respond, "I understand, ma'am. And that's OK if you can't afford it. But we just did your neighbor's house down the block, and it took the two of us 45 minutes out here in the snow. And we're pros. It might take you, by yourself, a lot longer out here. It's a lot more work than it seems." 

And then, when the woman was thinking about how much effort it all was, my cousin would jump in with the closer, "OK, look, Miss, for you, we can do it for $45. But only if we can use you as a recommendation to your neighbors if we do a good job." 

She'd reply, "Deal!" 

But then her whole house was spotless in 15 minutes and salted for anti-slip. It turns out our little arms worked extra hard when we got paid extra well. And afterward, she didn't even care how long it took us. She only cared it was done well. 

She then said, "I called my neighbor next door. They're in Florida for the winter, but they are asking if you can do their house, too? It's dangerous to let this snow freeze, and they don't want anyone to slip on their stairs. Of course, I'll pay you for it, and they'll pay me back later."

We shouted back, "Deal!" 

And the cycle continued like this, house to house, for two days until there was no more snow in anyone's driveway.

But in those few days that week, we made more money in business than our dads did with their full-time jobs.

From then on, every time it snowed until we were adults, my cousin and I went into business. I learned & re-learned sales, pricing to what the market can bear, communication, hard work, and a bunch of other things in those snowstorms.

But perhaps the best lesson I learned is that going into business can be as simple as picking up a snow shovel and getting a few customers.

And get this: those customers don't care about your age, where you immigrated from, what sort of shovel you use, what part of town you live in, how long it takes you. They don’t care about any of it.

The only thing anyone seems to care about when you're in business is that you do a great job at a fair price.

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The Bootstrapped Founder Podcast:

I was recently on the podcast with Arvid. Arvid wrote multiple books on entrepreneurship & bootstrapping a business.

We had a conversation about my journey from software engineer to VC-backed entrepreneur to placing small bets as my entrepreneurial strategy.

It’s worth a listen if you have the time. I am biased, of course, but I think there are some good lessons in it.

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That’s all I’ve got for you today.

—Louie

P.S. You can reply directly to this email; it will get to me, and I will read it.