For an entire decade, I committed myself to a stable and highly structured career at Chase Bank, where I advanced through the world of corporate banking. The environment was professional, predictable, and offered a linear progression for anyone willing to dedicate themselves. Yet when a particularly desirable parcel of land suddenly became available in my small hometown of Damascus, Oregon, I recognized an opening that the controlled environment of banking could never provide.
The property was situated along a well-traveled highway, a prime location brimming with potential yet curiously lacking something so many communities now take for granted: a convenient drive‑thru coffee stand. Enthusiastically, I presented the idea to my parents, who had long operated their own excavation company. Their immediate and blunt reaction cut straight to the truth: “What do you actually know about coffee? You’re a banker.” It was a fair question, echoing the gap between my professional expertise and the practical skills required to run a food and beverage business.
Nevertheless, I trusted my ability to bridge that knowledge gap. My years in banking had been filled with advising small business clients on financing, analyzing their balance sheets, and helping them construct sustainable strategies for growth. Terminology like profit-and-loss statements and equity distribution were second nature to me. Coffee, I reasoned, was an unfamiliar craft—but crafts can be studied, mastered, and improved over time.
Determined, I sought out a local coffee roaster who agreed to mentor me as if I were a brand‑new employee. Over the following six months, I immersed myself in the fundamentals of espresso preparation, milk texturing, and customer service, making countless practice drinks for my father’s work crews. Those early days behind the espresso machine became my apprenticeship, turning theoretical ambition into practical experience.
By September of 2019, our small drive‑thru coffee stand officially opened to the public. Within months, we expanded the concept to include food carts, a mobile beer trailer, and even an outdoor concert space on the same property. The project quickly evolved into something larger than caffeine; it became a modest attempt to forge a true community gathering place in a town that historically lacked shared spaces for events or celebrations.
But as many entrepreneurs discover, enthusiasm alone cannot ward off financial difficulty. Despite our creativity and hard work, by the early months of 2023, the coffee portion of the business was faltering. Revenue inconsistencies left me questioning whether I should abandon the stand altogether and redirect all energy toward the bar, which showed steadier profitability. The thought of closing a venture I had risked so much to build was sobering.
Since 2021, I had casually experimented with TikTok, mainly posting short, uncomplicated videos of drink-making or lighthearted moments. Then, in the spring of 2023, I stumbled upon a curious product online: over‑sized, 34‑ounce plastic buckets equipped with handles and straws, reminiscent of the lemonade jugs typically seen at county fairs. Intrigued, I ordered fifteen. One day, almost on a whim, I filmed a short clip of myself preparing a giant iced Americano inside one of these buckets. Although I didn’t consider it particularly creative or polished, the internet decided otherwise. The video exploded in popularity overnight.
The very next morning, we arrived to find cars lined up endlessly—15 to 20 at a time, their queue stretching onto the nearby highway. I had only one barista scheduled that day, so in desperation I called my boyfriend to assist. Though he had never even operated an espresso machine before, he jumped in, and together we tried to manage the surge of demand. The chaos was overwhelming, yet the thrill of that moment felt electrifying.
Everything changed after that single 62‑second video. Sales doubled, then tripled, as streams of new customers arrived fueled by viral curiosity. To meet demand, we hired additional staff members, extended our operating hours, and introduced an innovative “bucket refill” program, allowing customers to return their oversized containers for a discounted refill. What began as a novelty had transformed into a sustainable and loyalty‑building incentive.
The attention our shop began receiving was astonishing. People traveled from far beyond Damascus—some families drove more than ninety minutes every Sunday solely to experience our coffee buckets. Others journeyed from states as distant as Idaho or Texas after hearing about us online. Media outlets covered our story, and partnerships with larger food and beverage companies started to materialize. Occasionally, strangers approached me around town to say they recognized me from TikTok, labeling me with a term I never expected to hear: “famous.” The description felt surreal—after all, I had simply shared a playful idea at the right moment in time.
Looking back, the most gratifying aspect of this journey has not been the financial turnaround, remarkable though it is. The true reward lies in witnessing Damascus, a town historically lacking communal venues, grow into a hub of activity. Today, our lot hosts concerts, vendor fairs, and car shows. At the center of all this activity sits the coffee stand—no longer just a place to buy drinks, but a cornerstone of community life.
The analytical rigor I developed in banking—skills in financial forecasting, staff training, and process management—proved invaluable in structuring this unexpected enterprise. Yet the personal fulfillment I derive now extends far beyond balance sheets. I did not anticipate the joy of creating a lively, shared space where residents come together to laugh, celebrate, and connect.
Initially, I wondered whether I had made an imprudent gamble, leaving the safety of a secure, predictable career for something as risky and uncharted as opening a coffee stand. For a while, the doubt seemed justified, as our early struggles nearly erased my confidence. But then, almost serendipitously, TikTok altered the trajectory of everything.
Today, the questions I ask myself are no longer about survival or closure, but rather about managing growth and sustaining momentum. These are, without question, far better challenges to confront, and I would not return to my earlier life for any price. The unexpected path I chose—blending financial expertise, community connection, and digital creativity—ultimately led to a purpose far richer than anything I could have forecasted from behind a banker’s desk.
Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/quit-corporate-banking-career-open-coffee-shop-viral-tiktok-marketing-2025-9
