Tag Archives: new business

Ladies & Gentlemen: Lucky!

Today I’m waiting for the exact moment that the new moon crests (or whatever new moons do) tomorrow night here on the east coast. That’s when I’m going to launch my IndieGoGo campaign to help fund a flurry of extras for the bar. I’m hoping it will also generate interest and awareness and enroll my extended community in the bar’s success.

Here’s some info everyone has been waiting for:

The name of the bar? Lucky! Not Lucky Bar or Lucky Lounge or anything else. Just Lucky. Aren’t there a million bars called Lucky? You’d think so but…surprisingly, no. How did I arrive at that name? Well, way back when it was all very abstract, I was nevertheless fantasizing about my eventual big opening night. I planned to ask everyone I invited to bring something lucky: a classic lucky charm, something that had been lucky for them, something that represents luck — in whatever culture or belief system — to them. I thought it would be fun to use the lucky stuff as decor. Then, once I’d found the proper space and plans were well underway, I was laying awake one night thinking, “I need a horseshoe to hang over the door, for luck.” I figured I’d email my friend Beany, who’s been rescuing horses and teaching children to ride them, and ask her if she had any extras she could send me. Then I thought, “Hmm, Lucky would be a great name for a bar. But surely there must be a million of them already.” I Googled it and, nope, not really. There’s a Lucky Bar somewhere in DC and another in a foreign country. There are Lucky 13s and Lucky Lounges. Here in NYC there’s a Lucky Jack’s, Lucky Cheng’s, Lucky Burger, Lucky Strike and lotsa other Lucky stuff. My advisor, Ariel, used a super cool image for the business plan we presented to my sister and I loved it; it has been incorporated into the Lucky logo. It’s a flower of interlocking horseshoes, a mandala of sorts, with the negative space in the center forming a star. It’s perfect on a number of levels.

Since the word Lucky all by itself was already taken as a URL, I decided the web address (and Twitter account and Facebook page) would be http://www.LuckyonB.com. Which brings me to the second big reveal: Lucky is on Avenue B in the East Village! I’m taking over the former Boxcar Lounge space at 168 Avenue B, between 10th and 11th Streets. I’ll be doing cosmetic renovations and hope to be open in a few months.

Now, I’d like to show you all the graphics for the IndieGoGo campaign perks. There is, of course, the Lucky logo. But in addition to that, my Burning Man DPW friends and I love to play the Sharpie knuckle tat game: give one hand to one person, the other to another person, and they each Sharpie on a four letter knuckle “tat.” It’s how we wind up with stuff like POOP CUNT written on our hands… Also, there is a cool table in the bar (the only thing I’m keeping) that’s made from an 1889 manhole cover. It says MANHATTAN DPW. Kismet, right?  Anyway, drumroll, please…and thanks to Dre for helping with the designs!

LuckyLogoThe Lucky Logo!
Available on t-shirts, tank tops, shot glasses, pint glasses, buttons, patches and hoodies!

Manhole v2The MANHATTAN DPW graphic!
This will be cleaned up a bit so the letters are more legible.
Available on t-shirts, printed BIG on the back and small on the front,
just like our Burning Man DPW shirts.

Knuckles v2CHUG LIFE!
This will be white on black, available on t-shirts.

Obsessing About the Little Things

Is this what a panic attack feels like? Can a panic attack last for hours? Days? I’m not sure if what I’m experiencing is age-related or scared-shitless-starting-a-new-business-related. I do know I’ve never felt anything like it. I wake up in the middle of the night and am wide awake. I can jump out of bad at 8am or sleep all day regardless of what I’ve done the night before. It’s 9:30 right now and I’m ready to go to sleep. I get weird bursts of inexplicable energy and wind up scrubbing cupboards, buying light bulbs, cleaning out the refrigerator or randomly chucking stuff into the trash. I can go all day and not remember if I’ve eaten anything or inhale a bag of peanut M&Ms in one sitting. I can stay in my apartment, online shopping for light fixtures and industrial sinks, or spend hours Photoshopping pointless memes about “patience” or “motivation.”

12418018_10153188671471364_2421353669117903830_n

I don’t always know what day it is. My Christmas tree is still up. I managed to take the decorations off but…I was enjoying the pine smell. Except now even that has faded. This past week I got to see what happens when three professional men get into a weird pissing contest via emails. Let’s just say that even people who’ve gone to law school are still capable of acting like children. Of sending an email that says, essentially, blah-blah-blah, I’m gonna take my marbles and go home. Thankfully my fairy barmother was able to talk them all back from their respective ledges while I hyperventilated into paper bags and tried not to panic.

bernard tinkering.jpg

Photo by Sarah Kate Kramer

While waiting for the interminable wheels to churn — and let me tell you, nothing takes as long or is as laced and laden with red tape like opening a fucking bar in New York City — I mire myself in the minutiae of what I can control. I contact more DJs about mix CDs. I email more contractors. And I visited Faerman Cash Register Co. Lemme tell you, this place is like falling into a time warp. The 50-something proprietor introduced me to his 94-year-old father. “Did he start this business?” I asked. Nope, his father did. So I’d bet nothing has changed in this shop since a century ago. At least. Thank goodness they own the building, so they won’t get booted for some high-rise bullshit. But the guy has two daughters, neither of whom are interested in taking over the unnamed.jpgbiz. Maybe some oddball friend of mine might become suddenly intrigued by cash registers? Join this man as an apprentice? Anyway, there wasn’t one new thing in the whole damn place. I ran my fingers lovingly over antique brass machines that sadly wouldn’t work for me because their cash drawers don’t have enough slots for more than one denomination of bills. Such a shame because they are beautiful. I’ll probably be buying one of the Good Boys 1900 models, pictured on the right. If you would like to read more about the unusual shop, there’s a wonderful article here.

I’ve also subscribed to Gaz Regan‘s newsletter and bought his book, The Joy of Mixology. I signed up for his “Cocktails in the Country” weekend seminar-type thing that won’t be happening until “the spring.” I bought a “passbook” to “Winter Tippler,” which gets me 15 fancy cocktails at 15 fancy cocktail bars. I’ve been Googling “best this” and “best that” to gauge drink prices, size up the competition and figure out what’s popular. I’ve been scribbling down ideas for crazy drink specials…or specialty drinks. And during those hours I wind up awake at weird hours, I worry about the millions of things that can go wrong.

So as the opening day is projected further and further into the future, I can only wait. And wait. And continue to obsess about all those little things.