Beans

You open up a coffee shop. You’re the pride of your neighborhood. A local entrepreneur who wanted to create a community space. The paper runs a story on you. Your mother cries on the phone when you tell her you named the coffee shop after her.

The newspapers want to know how you do it. They send a small bearded man who is bald to record your words. He readjusts his septum piercing after he ends the interview and puts his iPhone back in his pocket. He tells you to “Stay tuned.”

You charge $3 for a cup of coffee. You get your beans from a friend. You met this friend while traveling in Ethiopia years ago. He is German. He’s in the export business. He says he can get you a good supply of beans. Processed in Adama. Roasted in your hometown. Brewed in your shop.

It costs you $2 to make a cup of coffee.

You use the profit to pay your bills. You set some of the profit aside to reinvest in the business. You hope to serve food one day. To hire a chef from your community. To take a chance on someone no one else will. This goes on for a while.

But then shipping becomes more expensive. A civil war breaks out in Ethiopia. The export business is getting harder, your friend says. Growing coffee is getting harder.

Your business is featured by a popular content creator on YouTube. Not a filmmaker. Not a documentarian. Not a critic. Just a creator. Someone who captures their view of the world — or rather the view that will make them money. And it makes your money.

More people pour into your shop. You don’t want to hire another person. You want the next business move to be hiring a chef. You work longer. You relax less. You raise prices from $3 to $5. No one bats an eye.