I’ve never been great at telling my story. Usually midway through telling a story, Heather or another loving friend stops me to interrupt with an important detail that I have intentionally or unintentionally dropped out of the story. If the story involves me, then I often shrug many details off, in favor of hearing someone else’s great story.
We have discovered lots of little holes in the wall in New Hampshire and Maine because of the stories that are told by locals. We’ve made it a rule not to stop into any national chains or franchises for food along our journey. (Perhaps with an exception for Dairy Queen)
Some of the greatest restaurant holes-in-the-wall that I’ve ever stumbled across are ones that have a great story. “This place burned down three years ago, but they rebuilt a year later and now they can’t keep the place fully stocked.” “That place used to be an old barn, but now it’s an always packed coffeehouse.” “The owner here became really passionate about _________ a few years ago and now the business has a niche of people who love _________, too. Now it’s like a family.”
These are the kinds of places that I tell others that they must visit. All it usually takes for me to become a fan is the telling of their unique story. Stories spread. People who are able to tell the stories of their passions and experiences well, win.