Week 19 - Wednesday
Wednesday. Opening Day. Theo arrived at the shop before dawn, his sleep having been shallow, punctuated by anxiety dreams of burnt chicken and empty tills. The sixty grand safety net, now eighteen grand felt with the asset purchase, suddenly irrelevant. This felt like the real test. Owning an asset, being responsible for its success or failure… his destiny felt starkly, terrifyingly in his own hands.
He unlocked the door, the +1 enhanced lock turning smoothly. He switched on the lights, the non-flickering fluorescents casting a clean, bright glow. He fired up the rotisserie, its enhanced elements heating quickly and evenly. He started prepping the fresh chickens he'd had delivered, trussing them, seasoning them simply but carefully, following a blend he'd researched that approximated traditional recipes, foregoing Jono's neglect. He loaded them onto the spits. He started blanching the fresh-cut potatoes for the chips, preparing them for their final fry later. The work was physical, demanding, a world away from spreadsheets and forum posts, but there was a grounding satisfaction to it.
He opened the doors promptly at 11:30 AM, the smell of roasting chicken finally starting to replace the scent of degreaser. He stood behind the counter, waiting. And waiting. The lunch hour rush in the surrounding businesses came and went. A few people glanced in the window at the 'Grand Opening' sign, then walked on. Doubt, cold and sharp, began to gnaw at him. Was this a massive miscalculation? Did Jono destroy the reputation so thoroughly that even better than half-price chicken couldn't lure people back?
Around 1 PM, the bell above the door finally jangled. An elderly woman, leaning lightly on a cane, peered around uncertainly. It wasn't the woman from Monday night, but she had the same air of cautious hope.
"Open?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes! Yes, we are," Theo replied, perhaps a little too eagerly. "Welcome. Grand opening special today, half chicken and chips for seven fifty."
"Oh, my," she said, smiling faintly. "That is a special. Haven't been here since… well, since Maria left. Is it… is it any good again?"
"I hope so," Theo said honestly. "Under new management. Trying hard to bring back the quality."
She ordered the special. Theo carefully selected a perfectly cooked half chicken from the +1 rotisserie, skin crisp and golden, juices glistening. He dropped a basket of blanched chips into the +1 fryer, they sizzled immediately, the oil temperature holding perfectly steady. Within minutes, they were golden brown, perfectly crisp. He drained them, seasoned them moderately, and packed the order.
"$7.50," he said, sliding the box across the counter. This was it. His first sale. The first tangible return on his $38,000 investment, his planning, his secret power.
The woman handed him a ten-dollar bill. As Theo counted out the change, his hand was trembling almost imperceptibly. He felt a ridiculous, overwhelming surge of emotion, relief, pride, terror, hope, all tangled together. He handed her the change with a slightly watery smile.
The woman looked at him closely, her expression shifting from curiosity to gentle concern. "You alright there, young man? You look a bit… overwhelmed."
Theo flushed slightly. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. Just… first day. First customer, actually. Means a lot."
She patted his hand briefly across the counter. "Ah. Starting a business. It's a brave thing, especially these days. Hard work. My late husband and I ran a small bakery down the street for forty years. Takes everything you've got." She picked up her order. "Well, I wish you all the success in the world. Hope the chicken's as good as it smells." She gave him another kind smile and walked slowly out.
Theo watched her go, strangely moved by the brief interaction. The rest of the afternoon saw only a slow trickle of customers, maybe ten more people, mostly grabbing the special out of curiosity. The early dinner hours brought a few more. By the time he closed up shop, exhausted, he'd made exactly twenty sales. $150 in gross revenue. Roughly what Jono probably did on a bad day.
Most people took their orders to go, leaving Theo with no immediate feedback. But one young couple decided to eat at one of the two small, basic tables near the window. Theo watched them nervously from behind the counter as they unwrapped their chicken and chips. He saw their eyes widen slightly after the first bite. He saw them murmuring to each other, nodding.
He wiped down the counter, needing an excuse to approach. "Everything alright for you folks?" he asked casually.
The man looked up, beaming. "Alright? Man, this is incredible! Seriously, this might be the best charcoal chicken I've ever had. So juicy! And the chips are perfect!"
His partner nodded vigorously. "Totally! We almost didn't come in because we heard this place had gone downhill, but wow! We'll definitely be back. And leaving a five-star review!"
"Thank you," Theo said, feeling a surge of genuine gratitude that surprised him. "That… that would be amazing. Really appreciate it."
He cleaned up after they left, the couple's praise echoing in the quiet shop. Twenty sales. It felt both pathetic and monumental. He started tallying the minimal expenses against the tiny revenue. Was this a mistake? Sinking forty grand into a business pulling in $150 on opening day? Panic flickered. He ruthlessly suppressed it. It's Day One, he told himself firmly. No marketing. Rebuilding reputation takes time. The product is good. Trust the process. Trust the enhancement.