I got married on Monday, and produced the inaugural Snafu Conference on Thursday.
It was a good week!
But as a result I haven’t been reading or writing as much as usual. So instead of my usual article, I thought I’d share something fun I’ve been working on over the last few months: a book proposal.
What follows is a sample chapter I’ve been circulating…
As always, I’d love your feedback!
Complete Chaos
“We’re opening in seven hours!”
It was midnight, and Robin’s Café was a disaster.
A dozen friends were crowded behind the counter. There were stacks of unsorted documents, appliances without purpose, and a patch of smeared fruit on the floor.
In six hours – ready or not – I would be opening my restaurant for the first time.
Someone shouted, “Where do the mugs go?” while another friend was unboxing new furniture. I had imagined what it would feel like to open a business. I had pictured the adrenaline, excitement, and sense of purpose. What I actually felt was nausea.
But at 6:00 o’clock tomorrow, I would be opening the doors of Robin’s Café for the first time.
Unexpected Lessons in Service
In April 2016, in less than three weeks and with no prior restaurant experience, I opened up a fast-casual restaurant and café in San Francisco.
People romanticize the idea of running a café; it sounds like a nice retirement project. I had wanted to run my own business. I’m a good operator, and I’d lived in the neighborhood for a decade. None of these are reasons to open a restaurant.
Yet there I was.
What I didn’t know at the time was that opening Robin’s Café would become the most intense crash course in selling I would ever take. Not in the stereotypical sense; restaurants don’t require cold calling, unless you count phoning vendors to negotiate discounts. There’s no high-pressure closing, except when I had to escort an irate customer out the door.
What running a restaurant demands is endless acts of being useful.
Every day I was solving problems, apologizing for things I didn’t do, and constantly trying to help people – employees, customers, vendors, and acquaintances. For three years, selling wasn’t something I did. It was the byproduct of showing up in service of something bigger than myself.
The best sales doesn’t feel like selling. It feels like being useful – and sometimes getting paid for it.
What’s an area in your life, personally or professionally, where you show up in service to other people?
Redefining Sales as Service
When most people hear “salesperson,” they imagine the pushy caricature: the used-car salesman, the telemarketer who won’t stop calling, the overly eager booth rep at a conference.
But real salespeople – the ones who create lasting change – rarely call themselves that.
A son supporting his mother through chemotherapy.
A father convincing his toddler that bedtime isn’t optional.
A first-time founder raising money for an idea she believes in.
These people aren’t manipulating anyone. They’re serving, advocating, and selling by being useful, especially in big moments.
Restaurants offer one of the cleanest glimpses into what selling-as-service actually looks like. In a restaurant, every moment is a hustle. But every interaction is also a chance to help people. And when a customer leaves satisfied – or better yet, delighted – all of that effort feels worthwhile.
Restaurants taught me that selling doesn’t have to feel gross. It can feel like taking care of people.
Most work is a series of small moments where you have a chance to improve someone’s day – a client who needs reassurance, a colleague who’s overwhelmed, or a neighbor who needs a recommendation for a contractor.
None of these look like selling, but they all build trust. They create the conditions where people want to work with you, buy from you, and support what you’re building.
Selling only feels uncomfortable when it’s performative; something artificial we put on.
Service is the opposite. It is the small gestures that make another person feel seen. When you focus on being useful, selling stops being a fight and instead becomes a byproduct of helping people.
Notice one moment today when someone helped you in a small way. What made it feel good instead of salesy? Chances are, it was the same thing you already do when you help others.
Ten Days to Open
Ten days before we opened the doors to Robin’s Café, I was pacing the sidewalk across the street, on the phone with a close friend, listing reasons why this was a terrible idea.
I had no experience. It was an absurd timeline. Everyone says restaurants are business on hard mode. But most of all, I was scared.
My friend listened quietly, then asked a question that stopped me: “Robin, is there any reason not to open this café – besides your fear?”
I paused. “No.”
As soon as I saw fear was the only thing in the way, I was committed.
Opening the café wasn’t actually dangerous – it was just uncertain. That kind of fear isn’t a warning to stop. It’s a cue to pay attention.
Selling is no different. The fear you feel before pricing your work, taking a risk, or making an ask isn’t proof you’re not ready – it’s proof that it matters.
Most of us treat fear as a sign to stop. But more often, it’s a spotlight pointing to something important.
Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing to take action anyway.
Before you take action, ask yourself the same question my friend asked me outside the café: “Is there any reason not to do this—besides fear?”
If the answer is no, that’s useful information. You don’t then have to leap, but consider taking one small step.
Sales as Community
Robin’s Café sits at an unusual cultural intersection in San Francisco.
Across the street was a battered concrete parking lot. Today, it’s been transformed into a children’s playground called In Chan Kaajal Park. Two blocks away, our rough neighborhood transitioned into Valencia Street, lined with boutique shops, used bookstores, and tech employees in expensive denim.
The Mission District, historically a vibrant Latino community, was in the middle of another change. Startups were moving in and old warehouses were becoming luxury lofts.
And at the heart of all of this was ODC – a nonprofit dance center that had owned the building since 1979 and served as my landlord. Dancers came through for class, tech employees took meetings, long-time residents stopped by for lunch, and confused tourists stumbled in occasionally.
Running a restaurant in a neighborhood that diverse taught me something I had never read in a business book: selling is the art of caring for different people in different ways. To run the café, I had to serve all of them.
Not just as customers, but also as a community: shifting, colliding, but united by food and a place to sit.
Learning to sell in that environment wasn’t about pitching. It was about care.
Every job, business, and project has a community, even if you don’t notice it. Two people talking on the street outside your home. The parents lined up outside your kid’s school. The moment a barista asks, “Your regular?”
For the next 24 hours, notice moments of community around you. Notice where connection already happens – between colleagues, neighbors, even strangers.
What role do you already play in that community, and what small gesture might deepen your contribution?
Internal Service: Your Team
Years before the café, I became obsessed with Danny Meyer, the restaurateur behind Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern, and Shake Shack. His approach to hospitality was revolutionary: employees first, customers second.
He called it “enlightened hospitality.”
It sounds obvious now, but at the time it was radical.
In an industry known for burnout and high turnover, Meyer put his staff first. He greeted guests at the door, stepped in when the dishwasher quit, and built a culture where his employees could thrive.
At Robin’s Café, I aspired to do the same.
Service starts with your team. Think of one person you work with: an employee, contractor, or teammate. Ask yourself, “What’s one small thing that would make their day a little easier?”
Learning To Lead: The Banana Peel Incident
A few weeks after opening, I walked into the café to find a banana peel sitting in the middle of our clean white tile floor.
It was like a cartoon setup, just waiting for someone to slip.
Meanwhile, behind the counter, my staff laughed and chatted – while dirty dishes piled up.
I was livid.
I picked up the banana peel, washed the dishes, and then stormed out to call a mentor. I ranted, and fumed, and explained how irresponsible my staff was.
She listened patiently.
And then she said, “Your employees owe you nothing.” She continued: “They’re showing up. That’s already something. Nobody will ever care about your business the way you do. If you want them to care, you have to teach them. Lead them. Inspire them. And if they don’t, let them go. But don’t get mad they don’t care like you do.”
That conversation changed how I lead.
My job wasn’t to demand excellence, but to model it. I had to sell my standards before anyone would follow them.
Think of one standard you wish people around you would maintain: punctuality, follow-through, even just washing the dishes.
For the next day, model that standard yourself. Don’t mention it – just demonstrate – and see what happens.
A Great Place to Work
Six months into running the café, I stopped by at closing to get the mail. The employee who was cleaning up for the night turned to me and said:
“Robin, this is the single best job I’ve ever had.”
Working in a café is difficult: irregular hours, high volume, and endless menial to-dos. But he meant it. And that moment made all of the effort worthwhile.
When people feel seen, supported, and trusted, they want to do great work. They want to contribute and help the business succeed.
This wasn’t a sales tactic. It was culture. And it worked.
Think of one person you work with: a colleague, client, or collaborator. Send them a quick note acknowledging something specific you appreciate about them. A sentence is enough.
Then notice what shifts, in them and in you.
External Service: Your Customers
If Danny Meyer taught me to serve employees, Will Guidara taught me to serve guests.
Guidara transformed Eleven Madison Park into the best restaurant in the world by practicing what he called “unreasonable hospitality.” Not fancy service, but personal service.
Eleven Madison Park became famous for noticing tiny details and turning them into moments guests never forgot. A table of tourists said they’d never tried a New York street-cart hot dog, so a staff member ran outside, bought one, and served it on fine china between courses. When a child was disappointed not to find chicken fingers on the menu, the kitchen crafted fancy chicken fingers just for him. A couple celebrating their anniversary received dessert tailored to memories they had only mentioned in passing.
These were acts of care. Unreasonable hospitality turned dinner into a story guests would tell for the rest of their lives.
At Robin’s Café, we didn’t have a research team or budget. But we had endless opportunities to demonstrate care.
Letting kids pull their own soft-serve. Remembering a regular’s name and order. Dropping off day-olds at the homeless encampment down the street.
These gestures didn’t cost anything, but they created connection. Connection became loyalty, and loyalty became sales.
When people feel seen, they come back, tell their friends, and become part of your story.
Which is the real lesson behind unreasonable hospitality: the best sales strategy in the world is to make people feel cared for.
In the next 24 hours, look for one tiny moment to make someone’s day a little easier. It can be a gesture so small it almost feels insignificant. Notice what changes when you do.
What To Do With An Angry Customer
Seven months after opening, I sent a newsletter to the 4,000 customers who had come through our doors. Three people replied:
Two were glowing reviews. One was furious.
She detailed how she’d been mistreated months earlier, how her salad lacked cheese, and how our pricing was outrageous. Most business owners would ignore an email like that.
I called her immediately.
She was taken aback when she answered the phone. I listened, apologized for her experience, and explained that we’d just opened. I invited her to come back and try the same meal again, on us.
She declined. She had moved out of the neighborhood. She wasn’t interested.
The call didn’t fix anything. But it helped me.
Serving someone isn’t just about the outcome. It’s also about the effort. About being willing to understand, even when it doesn’t lead to a sale.
Think of one unresolved tension or complaint. It can be with a friend, family, or at work.
Reach out with curiosity – not a fix, but to understand. What happens when you reach out without the pressure to solve anything?
Payment is a Form of ‘Thank You’
Restaurants taught me something I’d never understood about money: that payment is gratitude.
People don’t come back to a café because the coffee is thirty cents cheaper. They come back because someone remembered their name, the barista smiled at them when they looked tired, and being in the space felt like belonging.
A transaction becomes a thank-you when people feel cared for.
Resentful payments come from pressure: hidden fees, rushed interactions, unmet expectations. Grateful payments come from service: warmth, attention, delight.
When customers feel grateful to pay you, you’ve won.
Think of the last time you happily paid for something – a meal, a service, a subscription. When was the last time you gladly traded something for money?
What made the experience feel good? Was it the person? The atmosphere? Feeling understood? Feeling cared for?
Consider why it felt good. That feeling is what you are trying to create for your customers.
Who You Serve: Multiple Stakeholders
People think selling is a one-to-one interaction: seller and buyer. But the most successful salespeople serve several stakeholders at the same time.
At Robin’s Café, I served:
- Employees – by creating a place where they felt supported.
- Customers – by delivering hospitality, not just food.
- The Community – by honoring a neighborhood in transition.
- The Landlord – who relied on us to represent them.
- My Investors – whose capital allowed the café to exist.
- Myself – because a business owner who is constantly stressed and losing money can’t serve anyone.
Selling doesn’t have to be zero-sum. When you align your success with others, everyone wins.
Make a list of the stakeholders you serve in your work or daily life.
In the neighborhood where I live, that includes the neighbors across the street, the families on either side, our mailman, the people who walk their dogs past our house, and the kids who play at the end of the block. When the neighborhood improves, everyone benefits.
Write your own list. Then choose one person or group and ask yourself: “What would a small act of service look like for them?”
Beyond Hospitality: Service Outside the Restaurant
Service isn’t unique to restaurants.
A car mechanic who tells the truth instead of upselling his customers earns trust – and repeat business.
A founder who teaches her audience before selling to them builds a community who believes in her.
A manager who takes time to understand a frustrated employee earns influence.
Service – not pressure – creates the conditions for a successful sale.
Choose one tiny, concrete act of service you can offer someone today – a friend, family member, or your neighbor.
Make it quick and simple. Little habits make big changes.
Selling Robin’s Café – on Craigslist
After three years, I realized I didn’t want to run a restaurant forever. I gave myself one year to sell it or close it down.
I spoke to business brokers who weren’t helpful. They undervalued the café and took an exorbitant commission.
One day, I Googled “restaurant for sale” and learned that there were restaurants for sale on Craigslist! I wrote an ad with beautiful pictures and posted it – for free – on Craigslist.
Nine months later, one of the respondents bought the café – and still runs it today.
Robin’s Café continues in operation because of the community and culture built over years of service. When you make the effort to serve multiple stakeholders and do so from a place of genuine contribution, you invariably create something of value that lasts.
What are you building today that could become an asset later – relationships, processes, your reputation? Service compounds.
Service, Not Pressure
Running the café was messy, exhausting.
But it was also exhilarating. It taught me that selling isn’t about closing, scripts, or even persuasion; it’s about service.
When you lead with curiosity, care, and a genuine desire to help people, selling becomes a natural byproduct. It becomes a way to connect people with something bigger than themselves.
In the chaos of opening, operating, and selling Robin’s Café, I learned a lesson that will last with me the rest of my life: when you focus on service, selling takes care of itself.
For the next few days, whenever you think “I need to sell,” replace it with “How can I serve?” Notice what changes.
3 Things I’ve Loved This Week
Quote I’m Considering:
“All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible.” - Frank Herbert, Chapterhouse: Dune
Interior Design I'm Loving:
Home Library Ideas
This is the best of Zillow real estate porn. For myself, I’ve always wanted a multiple story room with moveable ladders.
Something Adorable I Heard:
The sound a baby camel makes
Want more?
Until next week,
Robin
