September 7, 1993
Furnishing the offices took neither time nor money.
I walked through the rooms at my disposal, both of them. Yurik and Gena, my institute friends, trailed behind me. I promised them paid positions if things went well.
Zhorik had been fixated on planting relatives of important produce-warehouse and food-market directors at «Proma Impex,» but hadn’t had any luck. He caught me by the Terem and waved a hand: «Still working on my buddies, so start with your own crew. Take the offices. I’ll go hash it out with Vadik, no time for you right now.»
Yurik, Gena, and I surveyed the scope of work and cleared the rooms of junk. Left the desks, chairs, and cabinets in place. Zhorik didn’t recommend buying new furniture. Explained that traders, unlike financiers, had no need for flash. A computer, a till, and a flexible discount system would do. Just right for a business built around squeezing out profit.
An hour later, Gena drove off with Vasilich to VychMekh to stock up on office equipment at «Dimkom» — that is, to buy a computer and a dot-matrix printer. Yurik and I headed down to the Terem.
Looking wise, we drank espresso and briefly discussed what to do and how.
Not a clue!
We went back up to the second floor and ran into Zhorik, who pointed things out:
– So, here’s the deal. Here, there, and over there, that’s where Kirill’s ad agency sits. Kirya drinks like a fish. Doesn’t give a damn about the business, shows up every other day. Good thing they hired Masha. So, where is she? Ah! Meet each other. Maria, ad manager. Roman Viktorovich, director. Yuri, manager. Let’s keep going.
We moved into an empty room. Zhorik continued:
– Masha works like a maniac. Covering for herself and Kirill both. Should raise her pay, but here’s the thing. The agency’s not growing, brings in no profit, dead-end busywork, plain and simple. So the salary’s fixed. We’ll leave the agency two offices: the one Masha’s in, and Kiryukha’s.
– Got it.
Zhorik showed me Vadik’s office, his managers’ office, and the cash desk. We met the staff — Galina Sergeyevna, Andryusha, and Alina. Broke the news that we were taking one of their two phone lines. Promised imported alcohol at cost in return, and went back to our little room.
Zhorik ruffled the top of his own head: «Ah, if only money grew on trees! Fine, go on! Kiryukha’ll manage. We’ll leave him one room with Mashka. You lot take the rest!»
We surveyed the space we’d been given — four rooms instead of the two originally planned, conferred, and decided I’d keep the small office with a window facing the courtyard for myself. Gena and Yura, my managers, would get the biggest room. In the two remaining offices we’d set up accounting and the cash desk. We’d need to buy one more computer and a bill-counting machine, and hire an accountant and a cashier.
Zhorik ordered us not to rush the buying or the hiring, but wait for the first results. What if things didn’t take off — this was a real business, being built for real, not a scam. Money’s earned through blood and sweat!
He wagged a finger and dashed off. Gena arrived with the computer and printer.
By evening we’d kitted out the managers’ room with equipment, knocked back a bottle of beer each, locked up the offices, and headed to the metro. There we had another round of beer, discussing the Moscow alcohol market. Turned out our knowledge added up to zero between the three of us — just the general impressions you get standing on the customer’s side of the counter. None of us had ever set foot on the other side, where the barge-shaped women and the hardened loaders lived. What’s more, not even in our worst nightmares had we imagined a time would come when we’d end up over there ourselves. On top of everything, we had no idea how to handle the paperwork.
The guys headed off to the dorm, and I, baffled and troubled, drove to the fund. Needed to talk with Zhorik about the principles of the alcohol business, sort out the financial reporting question, air out the personnel policy, and while I was at it, check how things were going without me.
Zhorik reported everything was going great! On the other points: working with booze was easier than easy, that’s one; skip the reporting for the first three months, that’s two; poaching people from the fund is forbidden, that’s three. On point three, in detail:
– Fund people have sky-high salaries. Nobody there makes less than a grand. They’re not trained to burn themselves out at work, they’re doing fine without you and me. Go find yourself some sharp kids, not Muscovites, who’ll slave away around the clock.
– Yurik and Gena are exactly that, I promise. I don’t get what to do about the paperwork, though. We’re hopeless at it, like pigs sorting oranges. Never had anything to do with trading before.
– Well… uh… for the first while, Marina can help with the books. We’ll think it over with her tomorrow.
– And the till?
– The till’s fine. Olya will take the money.
– Who’s Olya?
– Bug-Eyes’s cashier. You’re dumping your cash on him anyway. So start out as a threesome. Clear?
– Yeah.
– Now look here. These are the papers on the first shipment, these on the second…
Zhorik spread the papers out on the desk, waved his hands over the pile as if casting a spell, scooped it all back up, and handed it to me. Ah, the paperwork on the Polish import.
Next Zhora ordered: in the morning, divide up who’s responsible for what. Then, through Masha, run ads everywhere, from «Izvestia» to the «Koptevo Herald.» Third, call around to alcohol trading outfits, find out current market prices, sketch out our own along the same lines, without forgetting to check against our purchase cost. The markup should be at least thirty percent, better fifty, better still a hundred. Also don’t forget how to get the goods to buyers, since the warehouse was out in the boondocks, and not every buyer would make it out to Khryakino. Maybe it made sense to set aside one room as an operational stockroom, or work something out with Nastya, who apparently had an empty basement, and so on and so forth.
Zhorik dumped a pile of questions on me. In the end, he told me to find the answers myself, handed over two thousand dollars for urgent expenses, and took off.
