I never planned to be a restaurateur.
But here I am—going on five years of owning a restaurant in one of the smallest towns in Wyoming (Chugwater Soda Fountain).
It’s one of the most gratifying things I’ve ever done. It’s also one of the most exhausting.
And those two things can be true at the same time—sometimes in the span of five minutes.
I’m proud of what we’re building in our little corner of Wyoming. I’m proud of the food. I’m proud of the place. I’m proud that people walk in and feel nostalgia, comfort, a sense of belonging… a remembering.
But today I’m going to say the parts I usually don’t say out loud because, well… I feel like it. And some of it just needs to be said.
So here it is:
Confession #1: The Locals Are Our Lifeblood (And Also… a Lot)
If you’ve never run a business in a small town, here’s what you should know: locals are everything.
They’re the ones who keep you afloat in the off-season, when the highway slows down and the tourists disappear. They’re the ones who swing by for a burger on a random Thursday. They’re the ones who tell their cousin from out of state, “You have to go to the Fountain.”
They’re loyal in a way that doesn’t exist in bigger places.
And I LOVE them for it.
But some locals also come with… intensity. Ahem.
Because in a small town, you don’t just run a restaurant. You run a community space. A living room. A piece of living history. A small piece of everyone’s identity.
Which means people have opinions about it—strong ones. They remember how it used to be. They have ideas about how it should be. And quite frankly… sometimes the locals are far more entitled (and rude) than the out-of-towners.
They’ll talk trash on Facebook because they don’t like the past of a staff member. They’ll boycott you because two years ago their biscuit was cold. Or they’ll be furious that you ditched frozen fries for hand-cut ones.
(Yes—this is actually a thing… For some reason, a handful of locals absolutely hate our hand-cut fries… while everyone else raves about them. I don’t understand it…)
I’m not throwing rocks. I’m so grateful for the kind and understanding locals who show up, give us grace, and cheer us along.
But there are a few bad apples, and it can be discouraging when the sharpest criticism comes from the people closest to home.
I think small business owners should be allowed to say that sometimes. So I am.
Confession #2: I Wish We Could Rate Customers
You know how customers can rate restaurants?
“The food was cold.”
“The wait was long.”
“The prices are outrageous.”
Well… sometimes I wish we could respond with our own little scorecard.
“They waited less than ten minutes, but threw a tantrum because they wanted their food instantly. Made the 15-year-old waitress cry, scoffed at our apologies, then huffed out… and left a nasty review two hours later.”
(Yes, this really happened.)
“Told us our chili should taste more like Hormel and said the chocolate shake didn’t have chocolate in it.”
(Yes, this really happened.)
“Treated the staff like humans. Said thank you. Smiled. Made our day.”
Because here’s the truth: a restaurant is a relationship. And like any relationship, it goes a whole lot better when both sides show up with basic decency.
(Translation: when you go out to eat… please don’t be a jerk, mmkay?)
Confession #3: We’re Not Trying to Make Your Life Hard with Our Limited Hours
Our hours aren’t short because we’re lazy.
(And they’re not short because we’re “going under,” despite what the local Facebook rumor mill likes to speculate…)
They’re short because it’s not profitable to be open ten hours a day in a town of 200 people.
It’s math, y’all.
As much as I love our winter breakfast crowd, serving three breakfasts over the course of three hours doesn’t pay the bills.
In a tiny town, you don’t have the luxury of “staying open and hoping it picks up,” because hope doesn’t pay payroll taxes. So yes—I know it’s inconvenient sometimes, and I feel bad about that. But longer hours would only feel more convenient right up until we’re out of business.
Confession #4: Staffing Is… Complicated
Staffing in any restaurant is hard.
But staffing in a town of 200 is… a whole different sport.
You don’t have a huge pool of applicants. You don’t have a line of eager, experienced servers just waiting for their chance. Most of the time, you’re hiring from the people who are available—period.
Sometimes those people are wonderful.
Sometimes those people are… trying.
And most of the time, they come with a laundry list of trauma, messes, and trials.
(But don’t we all?)
I have staff who are here because it’s their last resort. Staff with incredibly hard pasts. Staff who are trying to rebuild their lives. Staff who are dealing with more tragedy behind the scenes than you’d ever guess from a quick interaction at the counter.
I’m not sharing this to make excuses for bad service.
I’m sharing it because it’s real. And 98% of the time, our service is great. But sometimes? It falls apart. I’ll own that.
But behind the counter, there’s a whole other world you don’t see.
The back room of my restaurant is a literal confessional.
I’ve heard everything back there—tears, tragedy, apologies, heartaches, grief, second chances, messy stories, and big dreams.
I’ve been brought to tears more than once while listening and prepping lettuce and tomatoes.
There are days I feel like I’m running a restaurant, a halfway house, a counseling office, and a crisis hotline… all before 2 p.m.
We do our best. I’m there a lot. I try to mitigate as much as I can.
But sometimes the messiness of life leaks into the dining room, no matter how hard we try to prevent it.
So if your fries took longer than expected, or your server seemed a little frazzled, or something felt “off” one day… I’m asking for a tiny bit of grace.
Not because you don’t matter. But because the humans behind the counter matter too.
Confession #5: I’m Not Getting Rich Off This
Restaurant pricing is a hot topic right now. Everything costs more. Everyone is stretched. I feel that too.
But when someone says, “Your prices are high,” what I want to say is:
You’re not just paying for the food.
You’re paying for the food and the ability for us to keep making it.
Food costs are insane right now. Labor is expensive. Utilities, insurance, repairs, permits, grease traps, paper goods, equipment… none of it is cheap.
And in a small place, you can’t make it up in volume.
Yesterday I nearly had a heart attack after realizing the mint-chocolate bits we use for one of our most popular shakes now costs $115 per box…
Despite what people might think, I’m not making money hand over fist. I’m trying to cover costs.
Because if I operate at a loss, the business closes.
Simple? Yes.
But you’d be surprised how many people don’t understand that.
Confession #6: We Care a Lot About What We Serve You
We take a ridiculous amount of pride in serving handmade food.
We’re not interested in a menu that’s mostly reheated, pre-made stuff from the big restaurant suppliers. It’s not what we want to serve, and it’s not what we want you to eat.
We’re in the back handcrafting 90% of the items on our menu. That’s something you don’t see much anymore.
Our soups are built in layers with real ingredients and simmered carefully while we babysit them.
Our fries are hand-cut that morning from russet potatoes.
Our biscuits are made from-scratch from our manager George’s grandma’s recipe.
The result?
Our food tastes like someone cared. Like someone made it with their hands and their brain and their heart.
That choice is more work. It’s more prep. It’s more planning. It’s more dishes. It’s more margin pressure.
But it matters to us.
Because we’re not trying to just be a fast-food joint with cute wallpaper. We’re trying to be the kind of place you remember.
So when people pick at us and compare our prices to McDonald’s or Steak ’n Shake, here’s the truth:
We’re not playing the same game.
And that’s okay.
If what you need is fast and cheap, those places exist for a reason—and I mean that sincerely.
But if you want real food made by real people in a place that still feels human… that’s what we’re building here.
To sum it all up…
This job is extremely gratifying.
And hard.
And frustrating.
Sometimes all at once.
If you’ve been coming in, supporting us, tipping well, being kind to the teenagers at the counter, being patient when we’re short-staffed, telling a friend to stop in… THANK YOU.
You are the reason we can do this.
And if you’ve ever left a restaurant feeling irritated—because something was slow, or imperfect, or not quite what you expected—here’s what I hope we all remember:
There are real humans back there.
Real costs.
Real stories.
Real work.
We’re not perfect.
But we’re here. We care. And we’re trying.
And in a world that feels increasingly automated and impersonal… I still think that counts for something.
~Jill
More Details on Our Soda Fountain Adventures:
- We Bought a 107-Year Old Restaurant… What were we thinking?! (youtube video)
- Getting Ready to Restore a 1920’s Restaurant– in over our heads?!” (youtube video)
- I’ve Owned a Restaurant for 60 Days. Here’s What I’ve Learned (podcast episode)
- Soda Fountains, Small Towns, and Life Lessons (podcast episode)
- We’re Selling the Soda Fountain. Here’s Why. (podcast episode)
Appreciate your perspective! Again, well said and it certainly gives me something to think about the next time we visit our local dinning spots. Love the line “a restaurant is a relationship! So true! More folks need to have this perspective! My wife and I certainly look forward to visiting The Fountain on day, hopefully for a Supper night, the next time we find ourselves out west! Keep up the awesome work and leadership Jill!
Hats off, Jill. Your place sounds so wonderful!
Thanks for saying the words I once wanted to. My husband & I owned & operated a bakery/café & espresso bar. Our hours were ridiculously long. The lunch food we served cooked in the back, as were the baked goods & desserts.
I can relate to every word. It’s so very hard. I loved our customers & some drove me crazy. I cried when we sold the shop.
You & your staff are doing amazing! Keep up the good work! Hope to meet you this summer ~
Will look forward to visiting from Northern Colorado! Beautiful picture!
Thank you for this post. SPOT ON! I could have written this myself, as a relatively new owner of an ice cream parlor where we make everything in house. Our very first Google review was 3 stars and said the ice cream was amazing, the shop is adorable, the staff was wonderful, but the price was too high for the serving size. Mind you, this was our soft opening and we were still working on training staff. I was dumbfounded.
It’s hard not to take things personally, when you put so much into it and you care so deeply. But I really do try to let it roll off. We’re not for everyone, and for those that don’t understand how expensive everything is that goes into food service they can get their ice cream fix via the Dairy Desserts in the supermarket. LOL
If I lived near you I would definitely stop in for a meal and a shake! Your place sounds wonderful.
Thank you for sharing these honest reflections. They really resonated with me.
I was born in 1952, so I was in elementary school when Ray Kroc was developing McDonald’s into what it became. I watched the entire evolution of fast food and chains taking over individual restaurants—witnessing firsthand the disruption of those personal relationships you’re talking about, where everyone knows each other and workers in the restaurant are part of the community fabric.
Now, here in Los Angeles, with all the regulatory requirements and economic pressures you mentioned, many individual restaurants are cutting back hours or closing entirely. Everything has become just a transaction—self-service at grocery stores, automated systems everywhere, interactions stripped of small talk or face-to-face communication. The result is the alienation we’re experiencing in our society. Yes, there’s efficiency gained, but we’re losing something profoundly important for our communities and our relationships.
I hope your community—especially those locals who care—understands what they have. Because places like yours are becoming rare, and once they’re gone, they don’t come back.
Thank you for doing what you do, even on the hard days.
Most of my life I have worked in some capacity in support and in service of the dog. As a groomer, veterinary receptionist, veterinary technician, pet supply retail clerk, and finally, my favorite, as a dog trainer. Between vet tech and pet supply retail clerk, however, was a 12 year stretch as a pastry cook/baker (me thinking another profession might allow me to cover basic living expenses, I was wrong).
Within both lines of work, I experienced a “front of the house” experience, and a “back of the house” experience. To be sure, I am a back-of-the-house kinda gal and preferred that environment to do my work in. I am shy by nature, an introvert through and through with a non-existent energetic barrier between me and anyone else in the room. When I found myself in employment that required I engage with the general public, I literally felt my life force slipping away. It does not matter how polite, how accommodating, how competent, or how much my innate sensitivity brought to a complete stranger the exact thing they needed/wanted, 9 times out of ten, that stranger was profoundly disrespectful, unbelievably rude, felt entitled, or treated me as if I wasn’t even human.
The general public, the average person is a monster. It is true across age groups, income levels, and cultural affiliation and I am at a loss to understand why.
The forthright dogs, the beautiful pastry, and the occasional loving human was what I had to focus on to make it through. God bless all three and God bless you for creating value in a community that might not fully appreciate it but needs it. If for no other reason than to serve those who value what you bring everyday, in spite of the mosters. Someone has to show them what love looks like.
Jill,
I just wanted to say that I have been reading your blog/emails for MANY years and I really appreciate YOU. You have shared your ups and downs, your growth and bloopers with humor, honesty and grit. You are a rare find in these years of ours – please keep on the path and be encouraged. Your voice needs to be heard by more than those who listen now…. keep talking!
Blessings to you on the steps ahead!
Oh my gosh! I wanna get in the truck and go to the Fountain right now! It looks awesome and the food sounds incredible! And we are always real nice to staff and tip generously. When we make our dream trip west, we will definitely visit. Since it’s January and we live in Michigan, and you’re even more wintery in Wyoming, I guess I’ll hafta wait a couple months. Hang in there, girl!
Jill,
I can’t wait to come to your restaurant one day! Our next roadtrip to Minnesota or Michigan to visit family we will make our way your way! We have a little Italian deli in our town that does special dinner nights in the summer. It’s pretty cool. I’m so glad you provide that for your community. They are SO LUCKY and probably don’t even realize how lucky they are to have you!
We also live in a small town (population 500). I wouldn’t want to live in anything bigger. I have – mostly when I was younger – thought about opening up a restaurant. Although I’ve never been to your restaurant, I imagine, knowing something of you, that what I would want to open would be one similar to what your restaurant is like. What I always wondered was whether my patrons would like this kind of homemade, unprocessed food, accustomed as they are to a different style of eating.
As a restaurant owner in a tiny town in upstate Vermont, I hear you. Every single point is spot on. So many locals are amazing, then there are those that expect us to be super fast (tip: don’t leave the house to go out to eat if you’re already starving), or get upset the ice melted in their drink. So many tears in the kitchen! I just had my daughter who was my business partner walk away because she couldn’t take the stress in the kitchen. But I’m persevering and hope you do too. Thanks for making me feel seen.
Well said Jill! I’ve been a hostess and a waitress (in my past for many years). I enjoyed the experience greatly when I was working with well-mannered folk but was grieved and frustrated when the ungrateful, entitled few decided to “grace” my table. All I can say to them is what my mama used to say, “If you don’t have anything good to say, say nothing”. And if you still think you need to say something, FIRST try walking in the other’s shoes for a mile. Then see if you still need to say something. If I ever get the opportunity to travel to Wyoming, yours will be the establishment I will look for first!
I cried almost all the way through this post. I totally understand. I hope the people that needed to have read this post. Hugs to all the folks at the soda fountain, and to those that run restaurants and frequent restaurants.
I truly appreciate your willingness to share the good, the bad, and the hard parts of running a restaurant and employing people.
My oldest daughter worked as a server for six years, during high school and college, and it completely changed my husband’s and my perspective on dining out. Through her experiences, we saw just how awful people can be at times. While there were certainly kind, consistent, and appreciative customers, far too many were rude and acted entitled.
My husband and I make a point to never complain, to tip staff well, and to avoid dining out when we are in a hurry. We have so much respect for those in the service industry! Thank you for your transparency! We hope to visit your restaurant someday!
After running my parent’s restaurant for 13 years in a small town, I feel every single bit of this article! I literally cried while reading the part about employee’s and handling all that comes with managing people and their needs and traumas. Because it’s so true! And it’s so hard! Also I recently closed my general store and bakery in a town of 100 people. One of the reasons I finally pulled the plug on that business after 3 years was because of those harsh locals and all of their wild opinions. They always believed that their opinion on my business matter more than my opinion on my business, even though it was my money supporting the business rather than theirs. These are usually the locals that don’t really support your business by showing up. They just show up every once in a blue moon to complain while they pick up an item they forgot to get in town. Anyway. I came here to say, I hear you! You are so right! And so many more people out there need to hear these things from small business owners. Where do we rate our customers? Because this is a brilliant idea!!! Thank you for another great read!
When I was a child, I wanted to eat fast food every day, even though my mother worked so hard to raise a garden and prepare wonderful meals on a very tight budget. Only when I became an adult and started growing my own food, did I truly realize what a blessing it was to eat food that was grown and prepared with such love. Restaurants like yours are an oasis in the desert of fast food, boring chain restaurants, and home delivery. I live in the Dallas metroplex and have to drive at least 30 minutes to find a place like yours. Your place sounds like something my mama would approve of! I wish you continued happiness and peace in this passionate stewardship of yours.
These photos are stunning.. You look stunning! I imagine it has been the wildest ride for you, but what a cool thing to be working for! The fancy dinners have been my favorite thing to see coming out of your restaurant!
Thank you for your comments. A lot of people don’t understand how hard it is to run a business, especially a restaurant. My wife and I enjoy your special dinners. We have seen the customer behaviors you have highlighted at other restaurants around the state and we always let the waiter know they are doing a good job by leaving a larger tip. A little bit of appreciation goes a long way.
One of my true pleasures is cruising around the Wyoming prairie with my son and stopping by The soda Fountain before heading back home. The food, the locals, your staff…make you feel like home. Thank you!
We have stopped by twice on our way through Wyoming because I’ve followed you since awhile before you bought the place and enjoyed the story and family behind it. Yes, it was a little slow. But everyone was nice, the food was good, and it was a pleasant stop in the middle of nowhere but Sinclair stations. We saw a glimpse of you and hubby in the back last time working hard and we’re even more impressed. We run a family business of off-grid and backup power, and so family businesses mean a lot to us. We will definitely come by again when in Wyoming!
I love your openness and honesty and willingness to say the hard things. Makes me wish I lived close enough to work for you because what you are creating resonates with me. I ran a granola business 3 years. No one understood when my costs doubled in one year and quit buying the minute I had to go up a little on my prices. I worked hard to create unique flavors with high quality ingredients. You are rocking it and I am glad you are strong enough to say out loud what needs to be said. May God bless you all for what you literally bring to the table.
Okay, I’m convinced. I drive by Chugwater relatively often, and if I pull off, I go through town rather than just to the rest stop at the edge of town because, well because I like small towns.
Next time, I’ll stop and get something to eat. I’ve often thought of doing so.
Yay! I hope you enjoy the Soda Fountain!
That’s really beautiful. It’s a good reminder to us all that perfection doesn’t exit anywhere, patience is so important and remembering that the person you are interacting with (regardless of appearance) is human too, all just makes the world a better place (whether you live in a town of 200 people or 2 million).
Absolutely beautiful read. I was blessed to work in a Tea Room for about 6 months. I did experience some of what you wrote, but definitely not all of it. But I have definitely seen everything you described in just general life experiences, and it is definitely a ministry running a personal business these days vs. a chain business. I’m on the coast of South Carolina, so I don’t see me getting the opportunity to visit your restaurant, but I’m thrilled to get to ‘visit’ through reading your posts. Much blessings!