Some are born with an entrepreneurial mindset. Others–like me–had to grow one.
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“What are you doing next Thursday at 9 AM?”
This was the first time my soon-to-be new boss and I had talked on the phone.
I had class next Thursday at 9 AM.
“Oh, next Thursday?” I asked. “Nothing. I’m free.”
“Great,” he said quickly. “Meet me in the Lowe’s parking lot at 9 AM. Oh, and Jay. Bring coffee.”
The pitch that got me started.
My final project for my International Business class was to create a product to launch in a foreign market. Each group had to package it up into a 20 minute presentation and pitch it to the professor as if he were an investor (which he actually was).
The first thing I did was convince the professor to let me do the entire project and pitch by myself.
He gave me the OK.
Next, I cranked out an idea that would help patients remember to take their medications. I packaged it up into a presentation, then prepared to pitch to the professor.
Eventually, I pitched. He didn’t really like the idea, but liked me. A lot.
“Do you have a job?” he asked as soon as I finished my presentation. “Because I know a guy who’s looking for a guy like you.”
I had never met a true entrepreneur until I met John.
To be honest, I didn’t really know what an entrepreneur was.
I was a junior in college at the time. Up to that point in my life, I was pretty focused on landing a job inside Major League Baseball or following my father’s footsteps and become a lawyer.
Entrepreneurship was foreign to me. But there I was in a Lowe’s parking lot at 9 AM on a Thursday with two coffees.
My phone rang. It was John.
“Come over to my car,” he said. I looked up and saw an older guy in a ball cap waving in my direction. “We’ll gameplan before heading into Lowe’s.” I fumbled out of my car, trying to look confident and not spill our coffees.
There was no way to know that my entire worldview was about to change.
“Have you ever done a product scout before?”
He took a sip of his coffee, then looked up at me for an answer to his question.
I think I was silent long enough for him to get the hint: I had literally no idea what the heck a product scout was.
“Ok, here’s what we’re going to do today,” he said quickly. “We’re going to go into Lowe’s, walk up and down each aisle, and we’re going to ask–and answer–two questions about every product.”
He paused to see if I was listening.
This must be important, I thought to myself. I’d better listen.
I’m glad I did, because these two questions built the foundation for my life as an entrepreneur.
The two questions that made me see the world like an entrepreneur.
“We’re going to go into Lowe’s,” he instructed, “walk up and down each aisle, and we’re going to ask–and answer–two questions.
“First, what’s missing?
“Second, what can we do better?”
I was baffled, but I didn’t show it. Instead, I knowingly nodded and sipped on my coffee.
“Ready?” he chirped. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Good, let’s go.”
He strode into Lowe’s. I sheepishly followed him into the Home and Garden section.
These two questions didn’t make sense to me. Here’s why.
I’ve spent quite a bit of time since that day trying to figure out why I didn’t fully understand those questions.
If you’ve got even an ounce of an entrepreneurial mindset, then these two questions are probably a natural part of your thought process.
But that was the thing: I didn’t have an entrepreneurial mindset.
I hadn’t been built or conditioned to think like he was, and I certainly wasn’t naturally wired to do so. Those questions were new lenses for me, and they were exciting to put on.
My formal education had done a fantastic job of training me to look for answers.
For essays, I was taught to cite other’s work. For mathematical equations, I was trained to follow the steps to reach an answer. For anatomy and physiology, I was taught to look at the diagrams of bodies that have been perfected throughout the centuries.
I was taught well to be resourceful, but I was never intentionally taught to look for problems then create the solutions.
John, on the other hand, was teaching me to see the world in terms of problems and possible solutions.
What’s missing? And what can we do better?
I wasn’t very good at it at first.
He and I walked up and down the aisles.
He’d tell me which item to pick off the shelf, and then roll through those two questions. I usually didn’t know the answers to either question. It was a struggle, and he could tell I could use some guidance.
Patiently, he began to coach me through the process.
“Grab that one.” He nodded towards a collapsible container that you could use for patio cushions or pool items. “What’s it made out of?”
I told him, and he said, “That’s what I thought. Well, we could make each unit for about ten cents cheaper using a different type of metal, especially with the agreement that I have with my Chinese manufacturer.”
“Now, how about that one?” He pointed to another item on the shelf. “That thing is missing a hinge. If we put a hinge there, then we could probably add room inside while using less material.”
Up and down we went.
He’d pull items and talk about every aspect of what he was holding. Of course, there was no way to tell if his solutions were correct. But that didn’t matter to me then, and it doesn’t matter to me now.
He looked at the world differently than I had ever done.
Something deep inside me wanted to see the world like him.
So, I practiced.
Admittedly, I’ve practiced lots of things in embarrassing ways throughout my life.
Most involved romantic endeavors. To prove I’m human–and an idiot–I’ll share one of the favorites within my friends group.
When I was 10, I became interested in kissing girls.
So being the answer-seeker I was, I went online and searched for “how to kiss girls.” Innocent enough, right?
Well, I landed on a grainy video of some older kids teaching younger kids how to kiss girls. One of their suggestions was to practice on fruit. Another was to practice on your own hand.
A third was to practice on a doorknob. (I’ll let you guess which suggestion I took.)
Later, I learned that the video was a comedy, probably designed to get some 10 year old sucker to make out with a doorknob. (Shoot, I just gave that away.)
Back to business, now!
I went to some interesting lengths to practice this new entrepreneurial perspective.
For example, I used to take breaks from my homework to go to the grocery store at the end of the block. I’d walk up and down the aisles asking and answering those two questions.
What’s missing? What can I do better?
When I was home on breaks, I’d slip off to our outdoor shopping centers and do the exact same thing.
What’s missing? What can I do better?
What are you doing next Thursday at 9 AM?
I’m constantly trying to refine my entrepreneurial mind.
If you’re just starting this long, difficult, winding journey of entrepreneurship and you’re looking for a place to start, might I suggest Lowe’s?
Happy product scouting!
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Photo: Flickr/Ludo Rouchy