The questions owners ask me.

Yes. Your team stays. They’re the reason the company works, and they’re a big part of why I’d want to buy it. I’m not coming in to cut people.

I won’t pretend nothing will ever change over ten years. People retire, the company grows, jobs shift. But I won’t buy your company and start by letting go of the people who built it with you.

It stays. It’s on your trucks, your shirts and your invoices, and your customers know it. Changing it would throw away years of trust for nothing. I won’t paint over it.

No. Same building, same town, same customers. The only thing moving is me.

Yes. I live where the company lives. I won’t run your company from Nashville, and I won’t send someone else to run it for me. If you buy groceries in town, you’ll see me there.

No. You can stay as long as you like. Some owners want a few months to hand things over and introduce me to the customers. Some want to stay a few years in a smaller role. Some want to come by on Fridays. We work it out together, and it’s your call.

I’m not buying it to sell it. I want to buy one company and run it for a long time. That’s why I’m moving my life to your town.

I won’t tell you I know exactly what happens in twenty years. Nobody honest can. What I can tell you is that I’m not looking for something to fix up and flip. If that’s what I wanted, I’d be looking for five companies, not one.

Fair question. I’d ask it too.

Don’t trust the MBA. Trust what you can check. I grew up in my parents’ hardware store in Chattanooga. They ran it for 26 years, and I know what it costs to keep a place like that open. I ran a 220-person warehouse operation in Memphis for four years, on the floor, not from an office.

And then judge me the way you’d judge anybody you were thinking of hiring: sit across a table from me and ask me hard questions. That’s what the coffee is for.

You’re right, I haven’t. That’s one of the reasons I want you to stay as long as you’re willing, and why your people matter so much. They know the trade. What I bring is the habit of running a crew well, keeping the books straight and answering the phone. I’ll learn the rest from the people who already know it.

Fourteen investors back my search. They put up the money for me to find one company and run it myself. They believe in the plan I’m describing to you, and they back me to run the company day to day. I’m the one who lives in your town and shows up at your shop.

A fair price, based on what your company earns. Every company is different, so I won’t throw out a number before I understand yours.

When I make an offer, I’ll put it in writing and walk you through how I got to every number, in plain English. You should have your own accountant and lawyer look at it. If something doesn’t make sense, ask me, and I’ll explain it until it does.

As long as it needs to. Once we agree on a deal, the paperwork, the bank and the lawyers usually take a few months. Before that, it’s up to you. Some owners are ready this year. Some want to talk now and sell in two years. I’m fine either way.

Not from me. I won’t call your staff, show up at your shop unannounced, or mention your company to anyone without your say-so. I’ll sign a confidentiality agreement before you share any numbers.

Then they should have it, and I’d tell you so. If there’s a family plan for the company, it comes first.

Then don’t. Plenty of owners who call me aren’t ready yet. Some just want to know what their options will be when the time comes. A phone call doesn’t commit you to anything. If you’d like to talk again in a year, I’ll be glad to.

Then the answer is no. Tell me so and I’ll leave you be. No follow-up letters, no hard feelings.