I just had a meeting.  A business meeting with people that loaned me money.  It was the kind of meeting that requires heels, showering, and an attempt at makeup.  It is the kind of meeting that happens once a year, without fail, and where you discuss the kinds of things like, oh, when you are going to finish paying off that pesky line of credit you have. 

I was pretty stressed out about it, to be honest.  The original guy who wrote the line had quit and moved on somewhere (hopefully for him, somewhere with less compliance and a better location).  I was now meeting with the Head Honcho - Honcho for short.  My business banker was there as well as a guy who handles all the paperwork for the loans.  I was stressed because a number of the manufacturers I work with had commented about not being able to get any credit this year, or having their credit lines revoked.  On a separate note, but sort of related:  all of those slimming credit lines have caused them to not be able to get me the inventory I need to keep up with demand - Reason #15,368 why the economy is sucking right now.  I have lots of people who want to buy stuff, but hardly any to sell them.  Fun times. 

But back to business - literally.  We sat down, Honcho across from me while I sipped my iced water and waited for the proverbial baby poo to hit the fan.  I knew it was going to be bad when I told him the names of the online businesses and he looked like he had just smelled a particularly rank fart.  It was around that time that he mentioned how BAD of a fit my company is for his bank.  He mentioned this no less than 5 times in the span of 30 minutes. 

What made me giggle was how great of a fit we were three years ago.  Oh, but that was a different era, says the banker.  Things were different.  Really?  I hadn’t noticed.  Seems that because I don’t do marketing consulting anymore, the entire loan is making them “uncomfortable”.  Funny how their definition of “uncomfortable” doesn’t keep them up at night.  When I pointed out very plainly that we had always been straight up with them, and even told them when applying for the line that it was to finance the start-up of our online businesses, I was enlightened by this little nugget: “Well, we originally wanted to do business with you because of who your consulting clients were.  There was synergy between who you worked with and who we wanted to work with, and it was mutually beneficial.” 

Oh. 

Insert me, giggling again.  I must have missed that point in our original meetings where you said, “We want to work with you only because of who you know, and what business we might gain from you.”  The thing is, both Jennifer and I were very well networked.  Apparently they knew this, and took on our shitty little business because they thought we could get them big fat legal clients.  Now that, in their perception, we can’t, well, our worth is back to nothing. 

First time I’ve ever been told flat out that I was used for connections. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but I’ve never had anyone be so unapologetically direct about it. 

Honcho mentioned the “bad fit” again and said they only like to write credit lines with 7 figures, not 5 like my crappy little line.  Honcho wanted to know how soon I could pay it off. Honcho also wanted me to put the line in my name, not the company’s, because, well, the company doesn’t really exist.  They used words like “assets” and “collateral” and “receivables” a lot, but thankfully my accounting 101 class paid off and I was able to keep up.  I said, “Hmmm, it’s interesting because with Right Angle, the only collateral we had were two laptops and a couple of office chairs.  Now I have thousands of dollars of inventory and that isn’t worth more than a laptop?”  Call me stupid, because I’m not a Head Honcho, but it doesn’t make much sense to me.  Fine, I said, put the line in my name. I’m already the personal guarantor on it so really, what difference does it make?  Apparently, it makes a lot of difference to them. 

They suggested a payment plan, and I agreed.  I asked if I should be looking for a new bank, but apparently my daily deposits from those lame internet businesses I run are enough to make me valuable.  They just aren’t in the business of writing lines of credit for small fry such as myself.  It’s kind of funny because their entire marketing message is about catering to the small business.  I’m below the floor of small business, I guess. 

I will guarantee this:  when and if I ever do need a 7-figure credit line, they certainly will not be writing it. 

When I left the building, I didn’t know whether to bust out laughing or throw up.  It was just so bizarre to sit across from someone like Honch while he in no uncertain terms told me how much my business model didn’t fit, how the only reason I was lucky enough to become a customer of theirs was because of what I could do for them, and because now that I can’t, they don’t want me - while smiling and shaking my hand.  I felt like my ultra-comfy swivel chair in the conference room had become a portal to another universe.  It’s a universe I don’t particularly care for. 

I must look on the bright side:  I’m still very much in business years after starting, they didn’t terminate my line of credit, and one day when it’s paid off I can sign the check and put a “FU” in the memo field.  That will be very immature, and very gratifying.