GRIND: How To Turn Your Coffee Break Into Your Big Break

GRIND: How To Turn Your Coffee Break Into Your Big Break

By C.J. Miller

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2010 C.J. Miller

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to my daughters,

Princess Jazmin and Arielle.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I started this journey, on my own, close to three years ago. I guess you could say I was the lone, dreaming barista. The genesis of this story began with my goal of wanting to capture the attention of a very popular coffee shop franchise, but like most people on the grind, I was alone and in need of help. I faced a screaming mountain of reasons why my story and message would never make it into your hands, but thankfully I had people that believed in my vision, almost as much I did.

The person privy to my plan for writing this book was Anthony Tone Taylor. He was my truest friend, a brother, and the motivation I needed during some of the darkest hours of my journey. Either by prayer, a timely conversation, or inspirational You can’t give up C! text, he made sure I stayed the course. I’ll always be indebted to him for his friendship, loyalty and belief in me.

Although, Jacquie Lee and Tone never met, I have no doubt that he would have signed off on her as I did. Jacquie Lee went against the grain, followed her instincts, and chose to work with me although to many, I was a nobody. While her friends knew her for brokering multi-million dollar deals questioned her logic for working with me, she was relentless, and faithfully responded with, I have a feeling about this guy.

They say that a key element in the production of diamonds is pressure. If that’s true, Jacquie Lee took the pressures that comes along with a D-list talent, and carved out a diamond. My marketing and business plans, arranging my placement at key red carpet events, and aligning me with key corporations, she did in six months, what should have taken three years. She looked at a desert and saw a forest, and for that I’ll always be grateful. I was born with big ideas. Jacquie taught me how to give voice to those ideas.

Erika Marie juggled the role of business manager, online specialist, social media director, editor, and event booker for many months. She often encouraged me through her entertaining Las Vegas stories, and often times with a subtle, but powerful prophetic affirmation. She and her mom even made me a great Sunday dinner one day. She’s a champion’s champion, and worth her weight in gold.

Where would my story be without my beautiful mother, Queen Vera? It wasn’t enough that she gave me life; she also took time to allow heaven to use her during a transitional period in my life. Whether I’m in need of a smile, hug, or a good home-cooked meal, she’s always been there. With a ‘whatever you need’ attitude during this journey, she made sure I had everything necessary to complete this adventure. Thank you, Mom.

There are a host of people that I’ve met on this voyage who have touched me, and this project, in some way. Thank you to: my big sister, Cicley Gilkey, who kept it real with me every step of the way, and who fed me sushi when I needed it; my twin brother Terrence Miller for his kind heart and wise sayings; my older brother, Eddie Miller, who every day reminds me that the grind never stops; Misty Miller, my younger sister, thank you for keeping my spirits up during my time apart from Jazmin and Arielle; my buddy, Gurney Hale in Dayton, Ohio; my prayer partner, Haad Majead, who never lets me forget that I’m chosen and called; Monica Cost, who keeps me honest and accepting of the room I have for growth with our deep live your truth conversations; Dana Frank for her sweet spirit, late-night chats, and constant call-to-action energy; LaRita Shelby, for her progressive, pure, listening heart; Bobbi Brown, queen of the lipstick game, thank you for allowing me to be a part of such a special program; Joi Gordon, President of Dress For Success, thank you for showing me that corporate America still has a soul; Charlie Mac, the guy who is everybody’s big brother, thanks for the access and the words of tried and proven wisdom; Chaka Zulu, thanks for being a living, walking testament that humility still exists in the entertainment business; President of The National Urban League, Marc Morial, thank you for your time, wisdom, and professional guidance; Jameel Spencer, thanks for showing me how to grind in style, and for styling me for my photo shoot; Munson Steed, owner of Rolling Out, thanks for allowing me to grace the cover of your magazine; Jamie Foster, owner of Sister to Sister magazine, thank you for your support and for answering the phone every time Jacquie called on my behalf; The Angel, Victoria Christopher Murray, thank you for allowing your heart to bleed on my project; Author Jihad, thank you for making sure my first book made sense economically; Frank & Paul—the FargoTube duo, thanks for offering me such a great partnership, you two were the fourth quarter boost this project needed; Tiffany Williams, thank you for having an editing heart when I needed you to; President and CEO of BET Deborah Lee, thank you for sharing your coffee shop story with me.

"God, I pray that instead of a book, you bless me to write a miracle; someone’s healing, someone’s second wind or chance, someone’s new beginning. Amen." These are the words I prayed before I sat down to write this book.

I didn’t want to contribute another How-To book to the world. My goal wasn’t to simply entertain you or provide you with a book that you’d only read once—never to pick it up again. I wanted to give you something special; something that would empower you not just today, but tomorrow and beyond; something that you and I could share and for years to come.

The book you’re about to read is divided into three parts. In the first part, I give you my Grind journey—my story. In the second part I share my 3-step formula that allowed me to reach the platforms of Tyra Banks, Donald Trump, Ashton Kutcher, and many others. In the third part of the book I give you the most intimate journal entries of my Grind—my struggles. In the Grind journal entries I share with you my ups and downs, the smiles and the frowns, my victories and failures. At times, these journals may appear dark and emotionally taxing, but know that I only included them because I believed in my heart that someone reading this book would accept that tears, sitting in silence, and losses are primary ingredients for a successful Grind journey.

—C.J. Miller

Table of Contents

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER ONE The Bean Scene Calls

CHAPTER TWO Mop & Brew Mission Accomplished

CHAPTER THREE CJ—The Barista

CHAPTER FOUR Grind Time

CHAPTER FIVE A JAVA Evaluation Manifestation

CHAPTER SIX Grind Today: Glad Tomorrow

CHAPTER SEVEN Hollywood Bound

CHAPTER EIGHT Los Angeles—Finally!

CHAPTER NINE The Organic You

CHAPTER TEN Everything That Glitters

CHAPTER ELEVEN Duplication

CHAPTER TWELVE My Big Break and ABC

The Blueprint—GRIND Formula

CHAPTER THIRTEEN My Three-Step Formula

CHAPTER FOURTEEN The Campaign Mentality

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Mentors

CHAPTER SIXTEEN …Back To The Story And ABC…

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Oil And Water

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Back To ABC

CHAPTER NINETEEN Trya Banks My Mocha Latte

CHAPTER TWENTY The Fire

THE GRIND JOURNAL

Grind Journal Entry 1: The Plan

Grind Journal Entry 2: Dark Abyss Awaiting

Grind Journal Entry 3: No Mercy

Grind Journal Entry 4: Fortune Cookie Tuesday

Grind Journal Entry 5: Humble Pie

Grind Journal Entry 6: Obsession

Grind Journal Entry 7: Mystery Benefactor—Caller Unknown

Grind Journal Entry 8: David & Goliath

Grind Journal Entry 9: Fragile Package Coming Through

Grind Journal Entry 10: Technical Glitch

Grind Journal Entry 11: A Dream Chaser’s Liberation

Grind Journal Entry 12: The 24-hour War

Grind Journal Entry 13: Another Angle

Grind Journal Entry 14: Point Blank

Grind Journal Entry 15: Yesterday Is Not Today

Grind Journal Entry 16: No Cutting Corners

Grind Journal Entry 17: The Price of A Dream

Grind Journal Entry 18: The Repo Man

Grind Journal Entry 19: Direct Care Giver

Grind Journal Entry 20: Sorry Ms Jackson Are You For Real

Grind Journal Entry 21: I Just Can’t Do It

Grind Journal Entry 22: Can I Buy A Job?!

Grind Journal Entry 23: The Letter

Grind Journal Entry 24: Concrete

Grind Journal Entry 25: My True Friend

Grind Journal Entry 26: Saying Goodbye!

Grind Journal Entry 27: Guerrilla Warfare vs. Life

Grind Journal Entry 28: No More Warehouse

Grind Journal Entry 29 Cast or be Casted

Grind Journal Entry 30: Editorial Grief

Grind Journal Entry 31: Lights, Camera, C.J.!

Grind Journal Entry 32: Gepetto’s and Pinocchio’s

Grind Journal Entry 33: About Time

Grind Journal Entry 34: Tripping Over My Zipper

Grind Journal Entry 35: Ultimate Producer Cicely

Grind Journal Entry 36: C.J. The Producer, huh?

Grind Journal Entry 37: WWHL Part 2

Grind Journal Entry 38: I Do!

Grind Journal Entry 39: Guess I’m Going To Vegas

Grind Journal Entry 40: Father Before I Go…

Grind Journal Entry 41: Vegas Baby!

Grind Journal Entry 42: Tip Toeing In Vegas

Grind Journal Entry 43:"Are You Kidding Me?!

Grind Journal Entry 44: One on Ones

Grind Journal Entry 45: I Spoke Too Soon!

Grind Journal Entry 46: It’s About Time!

Grind Journal Entry 47: No Closer To My Yes

Grind Journal Entry 48: Give Up Already C.J.

Grind Journal Entry 49: Submissions procedures, who needs Em?

Grind Journal Entry 50: Brilliant Barbara

Grind Journal Entry 51: All Aboard The Fantastic Voyage

Grind Journal Entry 52: By The Sea

Grind Journal Entry 53: Jacquie The Guru Lee and Me

Grind Journal Entry 54: What To Do?

Grind Journal Entry 55: The Red Carpet and The Don

Grind Journal Entry 56: Breakfast With A Hunter

Grind Journal Entry 57: A Movie Ending

Don't Grind To Live, Live To Grind©.

A MESSAGE TO MY FELLOW BARISTAS

The Grind Movement

INTRODUCTION

I graduated from Wilberforce University, and like many college graduates, there I was with no job and no job prospects. Even worse, I was in Dayton, Ohio!

Now, don't get me wrong, I love Dayton, but it's not exactly a hotbed of entertainment or excitement. In the city that boasted three malls and a speedway, my dream of becoming an author and a voice for this generation of the new millennium was unlikely to blossom.

Coming from California, I possessed all that embodied the Golden State. Los Angeles, California, specifically, was the land of hopes and dreams, free thinking and free spirits. But I must say that Dayton had something that California did not, and that was peace.

California breeds a hustle mentality. It is the place where thinkers with an abundance of aspiration go to plant their seeds, their very essence, into the tough, biased, but fertile ground. California can introduce you to your best self, but her methods aren't pretty. Her mentality is, I love you, and therefore, I must break you.

Dayton was totally different, much more relaxed and simple…and because of that, intoxicating. You could become so comfortable that the city could inadvertently rock your aspirations to sleep. What Dayton did do for me was give me the space and time I needed to come up with a plan. I could think in Dayton.

It was there that I began to formulate the blueprint for my life. My plan was born there—in the peace and serenity of Dayton, but it wasn't the tranquility alone that motivated me to move forward with my master plan. Much of it came to life because of frustration and restlessness. I had to do something or else I would be trapped in Dayton forever, and that would mean I would never realize my true potential.

My first job out of college was with Enterprise Rent-A-Car. Although I learned a lot and received great sales training, renting cars for the rest of my life wasn’t exactly what I had foreseen for myself. I juggled between renting cars and modeling for a few years until I decided to model full time.

It was at that time, during those days when I struggled with what my next steps would be. I learned that success is never found in comfort.

That became crystal clear to me while I was at an audition for a modeling job. Yes, it's true. Dayton is a place where image makers would come from time to time to find that special, hidden talent.

I was signed with a local modeling agency. Now, some may not understand why I chose to do this when my goal was to become a writer, but modeling was an opportunity, a chance to gain exposure. It was just one step on the staircase that would lead me to my destiny.

I was anxious to succeed with this agency and went on every audition my agent found for me, but then the weeks turned into months, and before I knew it, I'd been on numerous auditions and not a single one had panned out.

Negativity began to seep in and I started to believe that nothing was ever going to come of this. These auditions were not only a complete waste of my time. They began to tear away at my psyche. The elevation of hope, the deflation of rejection, the wasting of time all reminded me of my childhood…and my relationship with my father.

My father left our family when I was nine years old. I don't remember the actual day he left. It was just another day to me because he'd never really been there for us anyway, not physically, not emotionally. He never shared too much in our lives, and he certainly wasn't the kind of father who would sit you down and fill your head with notions of success. He never said things like, You can be anything that you want to be, the way dads did in the movies I saw or in the books I read. He wasn't that kind of father at all.

For some reason, after he left I created an ideal of what I thought my father should be, or maybe it was what I wanted him to be. Such as Frankenstein was composed of several different body parts, I manufactured what my biological father didn’t give me by creating it in my friendships. I strategically befriended individuals who possessed strong leadership qualities, a great understanding of loyalty, and those who were very insightful.

That became my image of him. I clung to it, even though he had never been as loving and as kind as I now imagined. In my mind, he possessed every single one of those paternal attributes. I had that wonderful image when my father began to call periodically, promising to pick us up on Saturday morning for a special day out with him. We anxiously awaited the weekend and the arrival of our dad, wondering what we were going to do and where we were going to go; to the beach, the park or maybe to the movies.

Then, Saturday arrived…but our father did not.

We didn't give up on him, though. Every single time he promised us a Saturday, we would be there waiting, happy, excited, and certain that this time he would make it.

But, our father never showed.

It took months of disappointment, before we stopped expecting anything from him. We trained ourselves not to believe a word he said. In fact, we trained ourselves to become numb to disappointment.

These modeling auditions in Dayton reminded me of those Saturdays. Yet, here I was at another one with hope that this wouldn't be a bust like the others. This audition, according to my agent, was supposed to be different. I was meeting with an agent from Ford, one of the largest modeling agencies in the world.

The waiting room was crowded with fellow Ohioans hopeful of getting their big break. We'd all shown up looking our best and dressed to impress. That had been the instructions from the owner of the agency, but the owner had neglected to tell us that our best was going to be ripped to shreds.

I'd never been on an audition like this before. As quickly as the models went in, they came out trembling and sobbing.

One hopeful female cried and said, He said I'm too fat and I'll never do any high fashion modeling, running into her mother's arms.

The air became thick with tension. The models that had yet to have their turn were stiff with fear.

I could not believe that people were allowing some stranger to have this type of power over them. All I could think was, just wait until I have my turn. Nothing this agent could say would hurt my feelings. I knew how to numb myself. I'd been through fatherless weekends, remember?

So I donned my protective shell knowing nothing could be worse than the feeling I had as a child. I waited for my turn and my chance in a give-me-your-best-shot frame of mind.

CJ, you're next, my agent, who'd accompanied me, said. Remember, when you go in, walk the ramp, face the agent, and then answer any questions.

I wanted to say, Sure, and I'll wait for him to toss peanuts at me, too, but I kept that thought inside.

If there was one word I had to use to describe the Ford agent, it would be egotistical. He sat at the end of the runway with a miscellany of expressions—smug, bored, as if he was looking down his nose on everyone.

Walk left, hit your mark, and then come stand in front of me, he demanded.

I did as he asked and then, he had the audacity to say, You know, there's a female model in New York that you should be dating.

Was he kidding me? This was an audition, not a hook-up session.

But then, the agent relaxed a little, and just started talking. With your movie star looks, what are you doing in Ohio? No lie! That's what the gentleman said.

But, it was a question that I'd been asked plenty of times. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate his compliment. I needed the work. Flattery did nothing to pay my bills.

Even though the agent turned out to be a decent guy, at least to me, I'd just driven an hour, and all I received from this top Ford agent was a compliment and a possible hook-up if I wanted a date.

I left the audition with the same results as all the others; nothing. With my car window rolled down, a Boney James CD blasting, and one hand on my head, I cruised I-75 North, homeward bound. I was frustrated beyond belief, but as frustrating as that day had been, it was the day that changed my entire life.

When wonders happen, some people give credit to the earth, some to the universe.

I credit Jesus.

There I was, driving down the highway, and I heard a voice in my head.

Why don't you go to work at a coffee shop? Within three months, you can transfer to a branch in Los Angeles, find a way to get on television, and write a book about how you did it.

That voice sparked thoughts. Thoughts begot more thoughts until it all matured into what I called my master plan to attack Hollywood. The further I drove the more perfect the plan became.

I couldn't help but be excited by the idea. My local coffee shop was already my hang-out. I spent a minimum of five hours a day there. Not just hanging out and drinking coffee. To me, coffee shops were a phenomenal setting for networking. For what, you ask? For anything I wanted!

Up until this point, coffee shops had been my surrogate office. It was one of the primary places where I built relationships. I met colleagues there, had dates there, did research and reading there, and practiced marketing myself to everyone I met (which I will explain in later chapters.)

As soon as I got home, I called my agent and told him about my idea.

I'm going to take a temporary hiatus from modeling, I said. This is going to work. Most aspiring actors and musicians work in restaurants while waiting to be discovered. So, my working in a coffee shop will give me an immediate advantage over everyone else in L.A. looking for their big break.

My thoughts behind this idea were that anyone who was anybody in Los Angeles drank coffee, and if the people with the power to green light my career did not drink coffee, their assistants and production partners did. One way or another, working at a coffee shop would be an advantageous career move.

Then it hit me. I had a B.A. in Mass Media Communications and I didn't know if I could put my ego aside to become a barista. What if I ran into my friends? I was acting as if the job in a coffee shop was a done deal. There was still the reality, however, that I might not get hired in a coffee shop where I would run into a power player.

I reasoned that going for my big break was far more important than my ego. My plan and what I wanted to offer could benefit a lot of people. I would just have to swallow my pride.

The location part would just have to take care of itself.

So, I set out to make this all happen. I was going to work in a coffee shop and get discovered. First as an actor or a model, it didn't matter; to gain exposure for my big break.

Now remember, doing this was not about actually becoming a movie star or a super model. This was all about doing it to see if it could be done, to see if my theory could actually work in reality. If it did, I would have the blueprint that could help others achieve their dreams.

I'd be able to do what I'd always wanted to do. I'd be able to write that book. That book would lead to my real big break.

With that audition far behind me now, as soon as I got home, I put my plan into motion. I called local coffee shops for two hours before I remembered that I had a couple of friends who actually worked at the neighborhood shop. I called one of those friends who lived up the street from where I lived and told her about my plan. She was very excited to help and gave me the name of a manager looking for baristas in the branch in Oakwood, Ohio. Then, she assured me that she would personally call and put in a good word for me.

With that, I felt like I really had a good shot of getting the job. Some people say it's 90 percent who you know and ten percent what you know.

I say it's 99.9 percent who you know!

I called the shop in Oakwood but the manager was out for the day. It was Friday and he wouldn't be back until Monday, so I left a message. Then, just as a back-up, I contacted a few more shops. I was working this plan.

With no more calls to make and nothing I could do until Monday, I pulled out a sheet of paper. I knew that if I didn't do something, I was going to go crazy with anticipation. I began to brainstorm and asked myself some questions:

What did I want to come out of working at the coffee shop?

How was I going to make every second of every moment while I was at the shop work to advance my plan?

After I completed my 90 days at the Oakwood branch, where should I plan to relocate: Los Angeles, Chicago, or New York?

Did I have the faith that the coffee shop industry could bring my dream of being a writer to fruition?

I addressed each of these questions as honestly as possible. When it came to what I wanted from working at the coffee shop, I wanted to write a book and share my story. I wanted people to know how the coffee shop experience had played a major role in getting me to Hollywood. I also wanted them to know that there'd been nothing easy about the experience, but I hoped my journey would provide a clear path for others.

About making every second count, I told myself that I was going to get three types of currency from being a barista: The paycheck I received for my labor, the knowledge I would gain from working, and the relationships I would create and develop.

The question about relocating was probably the easiest one to answer. Since my family lived in California, I knew if I went back home, I would have a strong support system.

The last question required me to be brutally honest with myself. If I didn't truly believe in my heart that working in a coffee shop could help me build a national platform,