The wide-eyed kolehiyala that I was a couple of years back wanted to be a businesswoman. I do remember having this silly conversation with Justine and Merlo (I think), two of my best college buddies, about this cool-as-fuck coffee shop that we could put up after we graduate.
Sharing a love for coffee and books (although I think it’s just Justine and me, here), we wanted a coffee shop that had rows and rows of books for customers’ consumption. It’s like Powerbooks but cozier. It’s like Starbucks but smarter. Haha.
I don’t know if they still remember that conversation though. Me? I do. Basically every time the thought of me getting out of a monotonous career and jumping into something as crazy and scary as putting up a business. I mean, come on, we’re word slaves. How are we supposed to teeter on such a precarious rope?
Perhaps we can rely on our love for words to lure in customers with our wacky menu descriptions?
Perhaps we can harness our connections and hold a fundraising for the establishment of these three crazy people’s coffee shop?
Or perhaps we can burn the midnight oil trying to cram marketing and business strategies into our heads?
Pressure anyway, is every BroadJoun student’s best friend. 😀 Firstly though, I need to get filthy rich. Yeah, like that’s gonna happen anytime soon.