Joe Grasso
A journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step.
Or in this case one too many Margaritas.
It was May 2019 on a slower than usual Friday afternoon. I was enjoying a lazy, multi-margarita lunch, when I got a call about an old ’72 Chevy truck I had for sale. A slow-talking Texan wanted to see it, so we agreed to meet at a café down the hill from our house. Much easier than explaining the long dirt road up the mountain.
He was straight out of a movie: big guy, boots, hat, starch. He checked out the truck and said it was perfect, then asked if I had anything else for sale. “Nothing for sale,” I said.
But tequila had other plans.
I told him about the ’67 Camaro I’d owned since I was 19. The car my wife and I drove off in after our wedding. “It’s more than a car,” I told him. “It's a legend and a legacy, and I promised it to my son, Aaron. One day it’ll be his, and he’s been waiting for years for me to hand over the keys. So as I said, not for sale.”
However, the Texan insisted he wanted to see it. So up the mountain we went.
I slowly opened the garage. He took one look and asked, “How much?” Again, I say “no-go” but, if I were to sell it, “it would have to be $35K.” Top dollar at the time. He didn’t blink. “So 35 for the Camaro and 7 for the truck?” he asked. I nodded slowly as I considered his offer. Reading my nod as a definite yes, the Texan reached into the top of his boot, slowly pulled out a wad of cash, and proceeded to count out $42K, right there on the hood of the Camaro.
Now I don’t know if you’ve ever seen $42K in cash, but I can tell you it was impressive, and exactly what we needed. So, I scooped it up.
You see, for the previous few years, Aaron and I had been making Mario’s Hard Espresso at home in the kitchen from my dad’s old Sicilian recipe. People loved it, and so I’d been researching how to turn this recipe into a real business. A family legacy Aaron and I could build together, something to leave the grandkids, and here was the means to get started.
Damn tequila.
I watched them hook up the truck and the Camaro onto a flatbed and drive off while I stood there holding a big-bag of cash, knowing everything was about to change.
I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and gave Aaron a call, “I got good news and bad news, son,” I said. “How ‘bout you and me grab a margarita?”
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Happy National Tequila Day, everyone. We hope all your dreams come true.
