We’ve been living “off-script” since last June when we left the predictability of Boulder and have been rolling with the punches ever since. After a blissful summer in the mountains, it was time to see if free-enterprise still exists in this country. We’re starting a food truck…in Arizona.
But when you shake up the matrix, you find out real quick that not all goes as planned.
Disclosure: All of the events you are about to read happened in 48 hours and are true.
On September 19th, we excitedly went to pick up our custom-made mobile pizza oven near Boulder. However, our optimism quickly faded when we arrived and discovered that it was not yet finished…not even close. At the rate this guy worked, it could be another month before he was done. What to do. We’d been lied to, plain and simple, about its completion. A day behind now due to that fiasco, Mark hitched up the pizza trailer to his truck and we left the next morning…without brake-lights. God help us…somehow we got through Denver’s traffic mess and made it to Albuquerque as the last light of sun disappeared and darkness fell.
The next morning, Mark ran to Home Depot for magnetic brake-lights. They worked! We headed out. We were on our way – we had this – things were looking up – we were going to make it…
And then a tire on the trailer blew five miles outside of Winslow. At that point we knew we were potentially on the highway to hell and running against the wind. Flashes of “Little Miss Sunshine” crossed my mind as we waited in the middle of nowhere…Navajo Nation…on the side of the road. We spent two hours finding pieces of petrified wood and studying a snake skeleton before our
roadside angel came with a new tire. Head down….continue on.
I can say that we safely arrived in one piece that night to our destination in Fountain Hills. The next morning, we were ready to unpack and settle in. And then it rained. And if you don’t think it rains in the desert, think again. This was a get-a-kayak kind of a rain coming down the streets and desert washes. White water. Thunder. Lightening. A monsoon – literally. In between downpours, we unpacked the pods containing our “stuff”.
And then the puking began. One after the other…each member of the family got sick, except for me. But when you’re the last person standing, you get to clean it all up. Lesson learned…don’t eat continental breakfast at Best Western.
Needless to say, those first 48 hours were memorable. But what resonates the most, are not the trials endured. It is those who helped us when we needed it the most. The guy who brought our tire and happily changed it for us, the brief nod and glimmer of a smile by a gas station attendant…the patient driver who let us change lanes without flipping us off….the little things. I’ve never been so thankful for nice people. And this ultimately is the premise for Firefly. To produce a high-quality product that we care about…to run a business with integrity and hard-work…and to keep the spirit of small businesses alive.
Out of necessity, Mark took a full-time job working six days a week. But now, after a good three months of working on finishing the pizza trailer, rounding up paperwork and permits (ah!), and passing inspections, we are going to give this a go.
Watch for news about our grand-opening…coming to a corner near you in January. We’re half way there….livin’ on a prayer.