Confessions of a Former Independent Tanning Salon Owner.

Once upon a time, a girl in the Midwest, sick of working hard for everyone else, tired of leaving her kids at home to be raised by everyone but her, who decided to go into business for herself. Here’s her (er—my) story.

I stated the why of wanting to own my own business. This was followed by a whole series of questions regarding business ownership—everything from what type of business I desired to embark upon, to whether or not I had enough capital, to did I need (or want) business partners?

Deciding to open a tanning salon wasn’t a stretch. I was a misplaced Floridian who missed the rosy, healthy-looking glow of a sun-splashed body. One of my dearest Florida friends owned and operated her own tanning salon and hanging around her place, I got a taste of what was involved as far as licensing, costs, upkeep, employees, etc. I felt that the decision to open a tanning salon was a practical choice that wouldn’t require a ton of research on my part. I certainly didn’t want to wander blindly into business ownership. I only wish that the decisions beyond what kind of business to open had come with such great ease.

I briefly explored buying into a tanning salon franchise, but balked at the prices on those things. I remember thinking it would take me ten years to recoup my investment and I’d have to share a percentage of my profits still after that! Convinced that I could do it myself for a fraction of the cost, I ordered a tanning bed catalogue and set about planning and spending.

I used a personal savings/loan combination to open Tropical Tan North—yes, I actually went into the experience with dreams of a South someday. I rented a premium location near major businesses and a huge local college, two distinct advantages over the other tanning salons currently in local operation. I also played secret shopper to those salons to see what worked or didn’t work for their businesses. I got the proper permits and paid (through the nose) to have the place renovated to accommodate half a dozen beds to start with and for wiring to city code. None of this came cheap. In fact, I had to forgo one of my initially intended bed purchases (each one cost as much as a compact car) just to offset costs, then I had to justify this decision to my banker with whom I’d taken out the loan—bankers understand collateral, not ideas. I opened Tropical Tan North and it was wildly successful, and I closed it four years later. Here’s why:

1) I wasn’t making tons of money. Oh, I was making money, but not nearly enough given the outrageous clientele numbers we were enjoying. The salon had a great location, was always open, had the newest bulbs, the cleanest beds and the lowest cost lotions, so we had the numbers. But, for example, I barely profited off of tanning lotions, which I underestimated to be such a huge part of salon business. I’d mistakenly figured it to be “bonus” money instead of realizing that lotion was a staple to almost every tanner who entered the salon. By neglecting to realize this and seriously under-pricing the competition, I literally walked away from profit.

2) The cost of salon upkeep was insane. Because we had higher traffic than other salons, the beds were constantly in operation, which naturally spelled out the need to replace bulbs and acrylics more often, not to mention those occasional mishaps that result in bed damage. This probably wouldn’t have been such an issue had I made better pricing decisions on tanning packages and, as mentioned, the lotions.

3) I was dead-tired. In my case, superior customer service became a curse. Because our salon had become known for its courtesy, I was personally in attendance for at least 14 hours a day, every day, to deliver. I did have two part time employees, but because they weren’t enjoying competitive wages (read miniscule profit margin), I was getting sub-par reviews for their courtesy, and on occasion, I suffered profit loss through missing lotion or freebie sessions they’d “sampled” to their friends and family. I couldn’t be the only eyes/ears of the salon, couldn’t risk further shrinking my tiny profit margin, and couldn’t take it any longer. I paid my bills and closed up shop.

For four years my intended American Dream of being an independent business owner bordered an all-out nightmare. Analyzing the situation now, I can see that I had many assets: the desire, the knowledge and some cash and/or ability to get a loan. Had I invested that time, talent and money into a franchise tanning salon chain, I might still be in business today.

When you buy into a franchise, you’re buying patented knowledge. When making the decision to go independent, I seriously undervalued the benefit of guidance and tools of those who have gone before us. You see, when you’re buying into a franchise, you’re not just purchasing the rights to a name, some equipment and a business manual. You’re purchasing a wealth of experience from business pros who stand make a handsome living from, in part, your business success.

When you buy into a franchise, you’re buying into a reputation. My independent operation had a well-earned reputation that cost me only 14 hours a day, seven days a week, with minimal profit to show for it.

When you buy into a franchise, you’re buying a tried and true business plan. It works, or there would be no need for franchising whatsoever. You’re buying into pricing, scheduling, and other valuable operational information, which means you eventually stand to have some semblance of life outside of your business. As an independent owner/operator, I couldn’t even slip home to shower or read a bedtime story to my kid without fear that everything was going wacky back at the ranch.

There’s some serious benefit to the trust that comes with owning part of something bigger than you are. Not to say that you won’t still work hard or that you don’t have to have any of your own business sense to decide to buy into a franchise, there’s just no such thing. But along with the franchise price tag comes the power of a network and access to solid business knowledge, and that is priceless.

Plan Your Store Layout Carefully

Upon entering my local grocery the other day, I noticed a weight scale placed directly at the entrance. I figured what the hey and hopped on. The red needle sprung to life and bounced back and forth for a few seconds before finally settling on a number. Needless to say I slinked off the scale with far less hubris than I had jumping on to it and prayed no one was standing behind me who saw that number.

Believe me when I say that little red needle adversely affected my shopping experience. When staring down the sale on 24 pack sodas, I decided tap water might be better. I figured my baked potatoes didn't need sour cream, so that didn't get purchased on this trip. And although I love cheese, I skipped that aisle completely.

All in all I spent less this week at the grocery store than I normally do by making those, and many similar, decisions.

So, the question the grocery store needs to ask is whether or not placing that weight scale directly at the entrance was the best decision for their store?

I've run a store before. I know that you need to add something to the store so other things get pushed around and everything gets shuffled up -- and you eventually wind up with a weight scale by the door.

Every now and then it's a good idea to take a step back and look at the store layout as a whole. What's the store's traffic? How does it flow? What can be put there to maximize sales? And most importantly, what shouldn't be put there because it will drive sales down?

It's like that old saying, don't lose sight of the forest for the trees. And the new saying I'm gonna try and spread across the nation, don't tell me I'm fat when you want me to buy food. Sure, it doesn't have the same ring as the first, but it's still very true.

Franchise "Creature Feature" Writer