Whew. As the year closes, I’m finally speaking up about something I stayed quiet on for too long. Not because I was afraid, but because I almost gave up on my dream because of this “restaurant.” In the end, though, this experience only fueled my drive to make Branseats stronger.
We returned determined to get back to business. My husband was focused on his job and Mad Mario Services, and I was pushing forward with Branseats. Our goal was simple: to support our family through our businesses. What we lacked was financial structure and support.
During that call, Brother told me his cousin had a space for rent that might be good for Branseats. I was hesitant. Discernment told me “no,” but I asked my husband. He’s the optimistic yin to my yang, and we agreed to at least see the place.
The back of the building housed a cigar lounge — renovated and surprisingly decent compared to the front. Cousin was hospitable, respectful, and reminded me of my dad. We enjoyed meeting him, but during our conversation, the prices Brother mentioned changed dramatically. That should’ve been the end, but we decided to give it a trial run.
We cleaned the space (shout out to my husband for his hard work) while I focused on menus and plans. But things quickly spiraled. We were constantly interrupted by Cousin, Brother, and lounge guests. We had to screen people, lock and unlock doors, and endure the summer heat with our baby in tow. I was praying every day for Cousin to follow through.
June 8th, I tried selling hot dog combos. We made some money, but not enough to justify the effort. The next day, spaghetti dinners were another bust. We were spending more than we earned, pulling from our household income just to stay afloat.
Cousin started communicating with Brother instead of us. Brother sent cryptic messages, and we were drowning in confusion. Our phones were off, our bills were behind, and we barely had food at home. It was too much.
After the event, we confronted Cousin. He promised to meet the next morning to go to Restaurant Depot. I showed up, exhausted, and waited. And waited. He texted, “I’m at the doctor’s.” That was it. I knew this wasn’t the place for me.
On the way home, Brother texted again, asking me to return for the rest of our stuff because Cousin had someone starting the next day. I laughed. My husband went in alone. Words were exchanged, but I was done. I couldn’t believe I’d been put in this position by family.
I stepped back from Branseats for a while. The disappointment and embarrassment were heavy, but my community saw through the fog and supported me. For that, I’m grateful. This ordeal taught me to rely on my family and myself, to set higher standards, and to stop letting people take advantage of my dream.
“Branseats will continue strong into the new year. Starting January, you too can support Branseats! Visit us January 2025 at branseats.com. Follow us on social media to see our journey in the New Year!” Also enjoy photos from our journey in "The Restaurant"
A Vacation Before the Storm
My husband and I had just come back from a wonderful vacation in Beaver Falls that he planned for us. He made sure my hair was done, saved up so we could relax, and we enjoyed a cozy room with a jacuzzi and a comfy bed. Baby Jaxon was right there with us, and we got to visit all my favorite spots from my days at Geneva College. Our trip ended abruptly when we were pulled over by state police on the way home, but despite that, we intended to wrap up May on a high note.
A Call That Changed Everything
On May 30th, I got a random call from my dad’s brother — let’s call him Brother. We didn’t have a close relationship growing up, but after my father passed, Brother reached out, sharing family stories and history. It felt like a way to stay connected to my dad.During that call, Brother told me his cousin had a space for rent that might be good for Branseats. I was hesitant. Discernment told me “no,” but I asked my husband. He’s the optimistic yin to my yang, and we agreed to at least see the place.
First Impressions
We arrived at “The Restaurant” that same day. The location and condition of the space gave me immediate doubts. The restaurant area was in disrepair, yet someone was cooking there. I didn’t even sit down. We waited to meet Brother and his cousin (Cousin).The back of the building housed a cigar lounge — renovated and surprisingly decent compared to the front. Cousin was hospitable, respectful, and reminded me of my dad. We enjoyed meeting him, but during our conversation, the prices Brother mentioned changed dramatically. That should’ve been the end, but we decided to give it a trial run.
The Red Flags Begin
The next day, Cousin gave us the keys and free rein to use the space. We were excited, sharing pictures and making plans. But the previous tenant’s belongings were still there — allegedly due to financial issues. Red flag. Cousin assured us it would be handled.We cleaned the space (shout out to my husband for his hard work) while I focused on menus and plans. But things quickly spiraled. We were constantly interrupted by Cousin, Brother, and lounge guests. We had to screen people, lock and unlock doors, and endure the summer heat with our baby in tow. I was praying every day for Cousin to follow through.
Broken Promises
Brother, meanwhile, was all talk. He promised signage, but nothing materialized. He gave us pointless tasks, wasted our time, and mostly sat around drinking with Cousin.June 8th, I tried selling hot dog combos. We made some money, but not enough to justify the effort. The next day, spaghetti dinners were another bust. We were spending more than we earned, pulling from our household income just to stay afloat.
The Breaking Point
June 12th was our last day. We tried hot dog combos again, but the return wasn’t worth the cost. We were exhausted, financially drained, and waiting on Cousin’s promised supplies that never came. On June 26th, we visited the space for the last time, made plans for an event, and decided to step back.Cousin started communicating with Brother instead of us. Brother sent cryptic messages, and we were drowning in confusion. Our phones were off, our bills were behind, and we barely had food at home. It was too much.
The Final Straw
July 10th, we held our event — a small victory despite everything. I hosted graciously, even toward Brother and Cousin, but their behavior spoke volumes. They paraded guests through our event, hesitated to share the only working restroom, and avoided us. My husband had my back, my siblings helped ensure we got paid, and my mom supported us with supplies.After the event, we confronted Cousin. He promised to meet the next morning to go to Restaurant Depot. I showed up, exhausted, and waited. And waited. He texted, “I’m at the doctor’s.” That was it. I knew this wasn’t the place for me.
Walking Away
I called my husband, and we agreed to pack up. We arrived, silent and determined. Cousin and Brother watched as we took our things. Brother kept asking if we were leaving. My husband held me back from speaking my mind, knowing it wasn’t worth it.On the way home, Brother texted again, asking me to return for the rest of our stuff because Cousin had someone starting the next day. I laughed. My husband went in alone. Words were exchanged, but I was done. I couldn’t believe I’d been put in this position by family.
Lessons Learned
This experience almost broke me, caused strains on my marriage, and caused health issues to my child but I walked away on my terms. It forced me to take a hard look at who I trust and how I operate Branseats. I realized I don’t want a restaurant — not now, maybe not ever. What I want is a consistent catering space, and I’ll keep praying for the right opportunity.I stepped back from Branseats for a while. The disappointment and embarrassment were heavy, but my community saw through the fog and supported me. For that, I’m grateful. This ordeal taught me to rely on my family and myself, to set higher standards, and to stop letting people take advantage of my dream.
“Branseats will continue strong into the new year. Starting January, you too can support Branseats! Visit us January 2025 at branseats.com. Follow us on social media to see our journey in the New Year!” Also enjoy photos from our journey in "The Restaurant"