Why I’ll Never Open a Storefront (And Why Inventory Is a Trap

-

 

Someone posted a reply to one of my Facebook posts in a group: "I can't wait to come to your shop and try your coffee."

People love romantic business ideas.


“Have you ever thought about a cute little coffee shop downtown?”

Sure. I’ve thought about it. We’ve all thought about it. The reclaimed wood counters, jazz piping out of speakers, witchy candles in the corner, maybe a bone on the shelf for attitude. People walk in, buy coffee, I smile, life is soft-focus sepia tones. I have beautiful satellite shops on Whidbey Island, by every Ferry terminal, in Pikes Market....etc. 

Beautiful fantasy.

Now let’s burn it to the ground with math.

The 1,200 Square Foot Dream… Until The Rent Bill Comes

Let’s pretend I hit the retail lottery and find a 1,200 sq ft storefront in downtown Everett (not picking on Everett, it's just for an example) for $2,400 a month.

People say, “That’s not too bad!” They say that before we add reality:

  • Utilities: $350–600

  • Insurance: $100–200

  • Fees, business license, cleaning, trash, toilet paper, mops, random costs: $150

Already, we’re over $3,100 a month just to unlock the door.

No beans roasted. No coffee bagged. No one paid.

That’s just the cost of existing.

Everett Minimum Wage: $20.24/hr (Yes, Really)

Let’s say I don’t want to be chained to the storefront 7 days a week.
We hire ONE part-time person at Everett’s minimum wage: $20.24/hr.

Bare minimum staffing:

  • 20 hours a week

  • 4.33 weeks a month

20.24 × 20 × 4.33 ≈ $1,753

Add payroll taxes, unemployment, and L&I, and you’re looking at:

$2,191/month for a single part-time worker.

If you want weekends?
If you want to travel?
If you get sick?

Double it.

Your payroll is suddenly a mortgage. And you're not even paying yourself. 

Inventory Will Bankrupt You Before Rent Does

Coffee isn’t shelf-stable merchandise. Good beans have a window — they go stale, fast. That means constant buying and rotating.

Minimal inventory looks like:

  • Raw beans in bulk: $1,000–2,000/month

  • Bags, labels, grinding, seals, shipping supplies: $300–500 if you don't lose a grinder mid month due to excessive use, or normal wear and tear. That's another $500 repair bill, but we won't use that in the total. 

Inventory is cash sitting on a shelf getting older by the day.


If traffic slows, that “inventory” becomes waste. Money lost. A car payment lost. Hours for the part time employee lost., etc.

The Math, Blunt and Uncaffeinated

Let’s total this:

  • Rent & base overhead: $3,100

  • Inventory: $1,700

  • Staff: $2,191

Total to EXIST:

$6,991/month

Call it $7,000 every month just to say, “We’re open.”

Not profitable.
Not sustainable.
Just open.

Before paying yourself. Before marketing. Before taxes. Before shipping materials. Before a single sale.

To Break Even, You Need to Sell Coffee Like a Cult

If you make $8–$10 profit per bag, that means you need to sell:

700–875 bags of coffee per month just to hit zero. At $30 per bag. 

Unsustainable.

Not profit.

Zero.

Do you see 875 people walking through downtown Everett buying premium coffee every month? Consistently? Year-round?

I love Everett, but I can’t cast that spell.

Why I Won’t Keep Inventory

Inventory is:

  • Stress

  • Guessing

  • Cash stagnation

  • Waste

  • Stale beans

You don’t need product waiting for customers.
You need customers waiting for product.

Roast-to-order and pre-order models solve everything:

  • Orders → money in

  • Roasting → product out

  • Shipping → fresh, fast beans

No leftovers. No stale coffee. No begging someone to buy the last two bags of a seasonal roast. Online, I can keep Pumpkin Spice Coffee year-round. In a store, October only. 

Why I Won’t Open a Storefront

A storefront is a cage with rent.

It demands:

  • Time

  • Presence

  • Staff

  • Inventory

  • Attention

It punishes:

  • Travel

  • Creativity

  • Flexibility

  • Slow months

I didn’t create Hollow Bone Coffee to spend my days behind a counter asking folks if they want beans ground fine or coarse.

I built it to:

  • Ship nationwide

  • Control overhead

  • Maintain freshness

  • Stay creative

  • Grow without walls

The Future Is Online, Witch

Rent is dead weight.
Inventory is debt.
Retail is roulette.

Digital commerce is:

  • Scalable

  • Controlled

  • Automated

  • Sustainable

  • Creative

I can drink coffee in my pajamas while orders come in, custom roast those orders, and ship fresh beans. I don’t need a storefront.

I don't need payroll problems.

Call It What It Is

A storefront is romantic until you do the math. 


Online is sane.

Shop small-batch, witch-owned coffee:
👉 hollowbonecoffee.com

No storefront needed. Just bones, beans, and backbone.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

🔥 The Torchbearers: A Call to the Witches Who Stayed

-
Image
  This isn’t for the trend-chasers. This isn’t for the moon-phase influencers, the aesthetic covens, or the ones who skimmed a Llewellyn book and declared themselves a High Priestess on Tuesday. This is for the ones who stayed . The witches who ran public rituals and built community spaces on shoestring budgets. The ones who got their degrees in theology, anthropology, history—anything to understand the bones of what we do. The ones who studied by candlelight, held circles in basements and backyards, and never once filmed themselves doing it for clout. You know who you are. You’ve been looked down on for not dressing the part. For stepping outside in jeans and a t-shirt instead of flowing robes and Instagram filters. For walking through metaphysical shops and not needing to announce your power—because it lives in your bones. You’ve had fifteen-year-olds talk over you on social media, dismissing your decades of practice because they watched a tarot video or learned abo...
Read more
-
Image
  Missing My Circle Under a Distant Moon There’s a certain kind of homesickness that doesn’t have a zip code. I’ve been thinking about my circle back in Kansas City—the women and men who held space with me, cast with me, wept, and laughed under the same sky with me. The ones who passed the salt with the tequila with the exact same reverence as a sacred chalice, who knew the exact moment a spell had landed by the goosebumps on their arms. My witches. My soul family. I miss them more than I expected. It hits me in strange ways. Like when I see the moon at her fullest, glowing behind the evergreens here in Washington, and I instinctively reach for my phone to text someone in the group— "Are you feeling this too?" But we’re scattered now. Different time zones. Different lives. Still tethered, but not in the same room, not around the same altars or fire pits. Back in Kansas City, we’d gather around tables cluttered with gaming decks, tarot decks, bundles of drying herbs, and ...
Read more

Who the Hell Am I?

-
Image
🌿 Who the Hell Am I? I’m a Gen X witch with dirt under my nails, fire in my gut, and a sharp tongue that’s survived decades of bullshit—and isn’t done talking yet. I walk the crooked path with a pocket full of herbs, a heart full of ancestral memory, and a deep, simmering refusal to play nice for the sake of anyone’s comfort. My practice is rooted in earth medicine and rebellion—because I believe healing and resistance are intertwined. I blend old-world magic with modern-day grit, call on the spirits, trust the plants, and speak truth even when my voice shakes (and trust me, sometimes it does—rage and grief both live here). I’m an herbalist by calling, an activist by necessity, and a smart-ass by birthright. I don’t do love-and-light unless it’s flickering over the ruins of outdated systems. I honor the sacred, but I don’t bow to gurus. I honor the ancestors, but I don’t romanticize the past. I honor the plants, the land, the stories—and I try not to take myself too seriously in th...
Read more