There's a long list of important things that everyone running their own business needs to know, study, and respect above all else.
A really long list.
In tedious detail (given enough time and caffeine) I could go on and on about tax-write offs, money management, budgets and planners. I could ramble on about networking tips, work-ethic, and what brand of coffee really gives you the best bang for your buck, but the most important element of any business is something much more complicated: People.
People are the meat, the potatoes, and the added side of gravy with green-bean casserole when you're running a business. Without people, you've got nothing. No contacts, no work, no money. Because of that, the Customer is the single most crucial element. It's not all about Numero uno Jack: It's about them.
That simple fact took me a lot longer than you might expect to have puzzled out.
See, I wasn't always Jack of the renowned and respected "Jack of all Trades, in the field of mystical-magic-nonsense." Hard as some might find it to believe when setting their eyes upon such a young and successful entrepreneur; once upon a time, long ago in my humble beginnings, I was only Jack.
Plain and simple.
After my gambling stints I more or less started from scratch, crawling out of the chaos of my wilder-days to plop myself into this peculiar Modern-day niche of specialty work. The business itself formed naturally after that rather odd period of my life, years in which I made numerous terrible decisions- yet somehow skipped right on by a majority of the disasters which followed suit, whistling dixie all the way.
But I was still in that daze: A state of complete and utter ignorance to how lucky I was getting. The cards fell the way I wanted them to, the dice rolls went in my favor: Play as the hat, Free-parking, pass go, collect that sweet 200... I mean- it very seriously molded my perspective until long after I was well and truly out of the game. Even as I started switching gears, doing jobs and freelance work, I was in the wrong mindset. It was still all about me: Numero Uno.
Then, over one fateful Friday dinner, a good friend sat me down and slapped me back into reality: physically.
As in with their hand, their fist, and then followed up by a wooden canoe paddle they ripped of the wall of our local Applebees.
The story behind this incident isn't exactly short either, but in brief summary I can say that some very harsh words were shouted, my ego was bruised (as well as my face) and my hamburger was completely ruined; the likes of its double patty and barbecue paddled off into the distant booth of a soon very unhappy looking couple.
It was a humbling life lesson, reality quite literally beaten into me with a side of fries.
Making matters worse though, the entire ordeal was complete justified; minus the burger. I had it coming, and to use a selective quote of their own words, I was "Too big for my britches, and going to end up dead."
Looking back, I know they were right.
Unlike most people, I'd blindly stumbled through the underbelly of the supernatural and survived. Through misadventures and happenstance alone, I'd collected a long list of contacts, a bonafide encyclopedia of shared-knowledge and trivia, and a metaphorical Swiss-army of odd-skills and tricks; the likes most people probably didn't even suspect were possible.
It wasn't until I took the time to sit down with an ice pack to reflect that I realized how unusual this was. How every step of the way, it hadn't just been me: It had been the people I knew helping me along- whether I knew it or not. Black eye cresting to a beautiful shade of purple and green, and stomach growling: It was after that I really found myself back on the straight and narrow.
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Where was I going with this? You might be asking that by now, and it's simple really. See, Threat levels, Government warnings, Dragon or not: The business Jack of all trades: Mystical, Magical, and Miscellaneous Services holds its customers above all else.
I check my daily planned one last time, crisp notes scribbled almost illegibly with imperfect short-hand. Highlighted in bright yellow and green for the afternoon. Eyes fell to the gauge, confirming that Green still had a mostly full tank of gas, and I saw from the tiny view provided that the roadways were clearing by the second; a loud warning siren now sounding.
It seemed that we were still on schedule.
By the gods, and on my honor: We were making that appointment.
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"Fritz Haarmann! This is Jack, from Jack of all Trades: Mystical, Magical, and Miscellaneous services!" I spoke into the recently apparated megaphone speaker beside the tank radio, rewarded by the echoes that slipped back inside the tank from the window. "Fritz, are you there?"
A large Gothic-style home stood quiet and regal with a small, but immaculate, terrace fence. Thick rosebushes, deep green and red in full bloom provided remarkable contrast against the backdrop of flames and smoke to the east behind the home, and as I peered out from the window slot, I could hear to a far-off echoing roar bellowed somewhere distant. Turning my head to listen closer, I could make out and the echo of large-caliber machine guns, and the unmistakable booming of explosions.
Property taxes and insurance rates were going to be record-high in the coming years, I could feel it in my bones. This was a definitely good decade to be a renter.
In front of me, the Gothic home stood quietly, shoulder to shoulder with its neighbors on the narrow streets of the early suburbs. I leaned back in my seat with the speaker piece once more, trying my best to ignore the nusance of a twirly rubber-cable that trailed after it.
"Fritz, this is Jack, from Jack of all Trades." Outside the tank, my voice boomed again. "I'm here in regards to our afternoon appointment-"
I stopped as the front doors of the house flew open suddenly, pale-faced man rushing out from the darkness behind them, adorned with thick sunglasses and an unmistakable expression of astonishment as he ran towards property gates.
"Vou must be mad Jack! Completely an vutterly mad!" The Fritz shouted, as his pale hands latching onto the gate with an even greater-white knuckled grip. "Vere's a vucking dragon ravaging the city! Vou must find shelter!"
Overhead the hatch wheel spun itself and opened with a loud clang as I set the speaker down, standing on my seat and breathe some much needed fresh air.
"Hello again Fritz!" I gave my best smile and practiced wave. "It's a pleasure to see you on this wonderful afternoon, I apologize for being slightly delayed, but it's been a busy afternoon!"
"Vhat? Delayed?" The pale man stared at me, sunglasses drooping to reveal squinting red eyes.
"Well, I'm sure you know how it goes Fritz. There was something of an emergency over on Rosemont. Whole clan of Goblins squatting in the basement, property damage- pipes stolen for copper: The whole nine yards Fritz!" I took out my pen, flipping open my notebook. "Now I know that's no excuse for being tardy, but in this business we pride ourselves on honesty and integrity."
Fritz stared at me, dumbfounded. Seizing my cue, I launched right into the practice mantra.
"So, over the phone you mentioned that you've been having pest problems. Now I know you mentioned the sure symptoms of the every-day variety Garden Gnome, but as we both know those don't like living in these parts on account of the winter." My delivery was spot on so far. "Considering that, I checked the property listings of the area last-night and I noticed that you've just recently gotten new next-door neighbors..."
The death grip on the fence hadn't improved, but by the look of those blood-red eyes I was certain I had his attention now. The rough drone of helicopters blew past overhead, low enough in altitude to throw wind on my carefully prepared pages.
"This is just a hunch Fritz, so bear with me- but as it turns out the new family is registered on the werewolf watch-list. Single mom with two kids aged twelve and fourteen. Now, you know how young pups are these days- and checking google maps I can see they don't have much of a yard to go digging in-"
A terrible roar brought a giant plume of fire straight up into the distant sky, a burning helicopter spinning out of it on full-tilt out of view. I tried my best to ignore the interruption.
"Anyways, I was thinking we might go have a chat next-door, and see if we can sort this all out."
A distant explosion signified another helicopter going down, this time taking a large portion of what I suspected might have been the capital building with it. It seemed rather silly that after all that political effort to oust the current establishment, people could have just voted for a giant dragon.
I glanced down at Fritz, pale brows lifted perhaps as high as they could possibly go. "I think I vould like to veschedule." He said.
Before we left, I penciled him in for next Wednesday.
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