The landlord had a problem. His strip center was dominated by an extremely popular seafood restaurant that consumed about 10,000 square feet. The rest of the shops were non-competing businesses other than a small pizza shop. There was the normal mixture of businesses from a real estate office to a hair dresser.
The problem was an Italian deli that went out of business and the vacancy it created in 1800 square feet. The location was set up for a restaurant. The problem? A non-compete clause in the seafood restaurant’s lease that prohibited any new tenants serving dinner. So who stumbles into a yearlong string of communications with the landlord? They knew I had, as one of my restaurants, a breakfast and lunch operation a few miles away. We talked, but didn’t reach much of an accord, since I wasn’t interested in another restaurant.
The short version of how we got to today is that the landlord stayed in touch by occasionally throwing numbers at me to generate my interest. I always thanked them, but said no, at least for almost a year. Then, about six weeks ago, the owner’s agent contacted me and said give us a number. “What is it going to take to get you in the location?”, was the question I probably should not have answered. Quickly, since I had several months to hear their proposals, I rattled off:
- $19 a square foot
- $60,000 construction allowance for the owner’s contribution to upgrade the space to code
- The walk-in cooler that remained at the location
- The right to use the frontage for additional outdoor seating
- The right to use the rear of the building for the walk-in and other uses to be fenced in.
Now, I assumed, they would leave me alone and I could put this out of my mind. Every time I drove by the location I came up with another idea, menu item or design thought. My “dreamer’s” mentality wouldn’t let a new challenge die for a couple of weeks until I was getting pretty sure they were going to reject my aggressive terms and leave me alone. And then, I got a voice mail message on my cell from the leasing agent. I waited a full day to return the call. Knowing the games were probably over, I had to know how I was going to handle the return call. I knew the agent was calling to check on my fishing exploits or just to pass the time! What was I going to say if they met my terms?
Finally I made the call. I had made up my mind, that I hadn’t made up my mind! Whatever happened on the call, I was going to force another meeting at the location. I called and they met my conditions except for the $60,000. They offered $50,000. That is smart negotiations. I said we would get together at the location to discuss it further in a day or two. Since the weekend was coming I asked the agent to call me on Monday for a meeting time.
Author’s Note; This is the point in a transaction that entrepreneurs get themselves in trouble. My rationalizations are NOT the way to start a restaurant. Emotions cannot override good business planning strategy. After reading this entry a few days after writing it, I felt an obligation to warn a reader. My instincts knew the deal was reasonable because I knew the area (demographics), competition, location and this was my fourth restaurant.
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It was a long weekend. Do I want to enter the restaurant development mindset again? Why do I want to do this? How am I going to approach the meeting? I knew there was still more they were able to give and I didn’t want to leave anything on the table. This is what gets you in trouble – the game is afoot as Sherlock would say. Negotiating a deal is half the fun! Well maybe, one more restaurant. Besides, my oldest son had expressed some interest in the business, I had a strong staff at the other two and more time since I sold the third one a year or so ago. Terrible rationalization!