I, Entrepreneur

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day of your life." – Confucius

Sorry, I have work." I never thought I’d be using this excuse sooner than I thought. Well, I have been – and will be – using it a lot from now on. This is the reason why parents put their children through school. And that day has finally come.

Two years of bumming around after college, however, were not a total waste. Apart from earning some income by writing colums, I also did quite a lot of traveling, particularly in Europe. But now, enough of the good stuff. Count me in among the countless young Pinoys who have joined the work force ("Finally!" my Mom would gasp). You’ve already graduated from the pala (as in palamunin) stage.

My chosen field, however, is something rather unexpected of one who has a college degree. A few weeks ago, I opened Magascene, my own magazine stall in a nice cool corner of the Greenhills Shopping Center in San Juan.

In college, we entrepreneurial management students had been warned by our professors (as well as by parents and other relatives) that it was not going to be easy getting hired for corporate positions, since we’ll be competing with some 25,000 new graduates and thousands of others who are unemployed. You’d be lucky to get accepted, even if it’s not your dream job. And establishing our own businesses was the way to go, so our professors drummed into our heads.

But those were carefree student days, so I really didn’t pay much attention to what anybody, including my teachers, said. My only concern then was passing that darn accounting quiz.

I wasn’t really keen on having my own business, unlike most of my peers who, while still undergrads, were already dreaming up all sorts of business ventures.

Then beauty baron Ricky Reyes, a very close friend of Mom, opened Beauty Central, a beauty complex in the Greenhills mall. With shops offering everything from a manicure to liposuction, it’s the place to be for a vanity rampage. Of course, you’d need reading materials while pampering yourself.

Tito Ricky ("Mother"to the rest of the planet) has always been part of our lives for as long as I can remember. My brother and I spent weekends swimming at his house. We were family to him. So like a parent imparting to us the value of hard work, he offered me this business. Actually "imposed" was more like it – "so you’d know how hard it is to earn money," he’d nag. After doing wonders to my hair, now he’s doing wonders for my future.

Now, I could make sense of what my business profs gabbed about. At first, I thought I did not learn squat in my accounting class. All the accounting theories I used to dread are now making sense as I balance my books at the end of the day.

I could have chosen to be a corporate grunt, but wearing a necktie makes me edgy. Besides, by having your own business, you’re your own boss. You can wear anything (not to mention any hairstyle) you like for work; you control your own schedule; you don’t have to report to anyone.

But don’t even think for a second that it’s a lark. Say goodbye to malling, which is pretty ironic because I work in one. I can’t even catch a movie or watch TV anymore. Magascene is a seven-day, no day-off venture. However, I like the job, a rarity in this dog-eat-dog world where a lot of people find no satisfaction in their
work. This is actually a dream workplace for any self-proclaimed mall rat. For one, magazines are more exciting to sell than, say, hardware store stuff (you won’t get anything useful if you stare at it). Also, the bookworm in me seems to have sprung back to life; don’t be surprised in the shift of my vocabulary.

The people around me aren’t the yuppie types. They are the simple tinderas, sales reps, and the manays manning (or should I say, "mothering") Tito Ricky’s parlors. They are common folk who are easy to interact with. Unlike the children of suburbia, I’m used to dealing with my fellow workers who have no hang-ups, and gaining their friendship and trust has been a breeze.

Some people who know me get turned off by what I’m doing. "Where’s the glamour of it all?" they ask.

Certainly, running a magazine stall in a mall may not boost my societal image. But it sure has begun to boost my entrepreneurial confidence. I’ve had to switch off my "suplado" mode, which is quite a feat because I used to regard what I’m doing now as menial and trivial.

I realize now that it takes skill, persistence and a great deal of patience dealing with all sorts of customers, some of whom I’d rather whack in the head with a magazine rather than sell them one. Believe me, it’s not much different from making a presentation to your boss.

"Why would I teach a bunch of people to run a company/country, when they don’t even know how to wash dishes?" a professor told us once when he declined a position at a prestigious university. This reminds me of my friends in Europe who are working as waiters, bellhops, telephone operators, sales clerks – kinds of work many Filipinos, myself once included, tend to look down on. Now, being one of them, I have acquired a large measure of respect for this faceless crowd, if only because they have helped me see the light.

So while I may gain neither fame nor fortune, I can only pat myself on the back at the end of the day for a job well done. For no matter how good or bad sales are, I know I work hard.

It also does not hurt that I’ve always had a good hair day. In fact, next time my friends visit me, I could also do their hair.

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E-mail the author at ketsupluis@hotmail.com or check out his stuff at Beauty Central, 2nd floor Green Lanes Building, Greenhills Shopping Mall.