Chapter 32 – BUSINESS BOYCOTT
Perhaps this chapter does not entirely fit with the general idea of my stories, of my life. But I want to explain, clarify and encourage any of my readers who have met with severe setbacks, especially setbacks in business.
It must have been late 1960s or very early 1970s, long before TEO, our family business then, became as most can remember it. I ended up working there, very much under duress.
In my first years working there, I HATED the shop!
Having been criminally careless in school, being so laid back about any sort of work that I was almost horizontal, I felt I was sentenced to life in the Alcatraz of the family business. Not just that but with a boss that was my father, a top salesman, the handymen who could paint, do carpentry, elementary electricity, mechanic, a tasteful window dresser, running a business and with the capacity to work 18 hours a day fuelled only buy 3 packs of cigarettes!
(In fact, Dad had won the Queen Elizabeth Coronation Cup for Window Dressing in 1953 with a huge display he had designed, cut, trimmed, decorated all by himself)
Can you imagine the subconscious complex I had working for such a boss?
How did I end up there?
This is how:
"Pepe, anda, es nuestro unico hijo. Metelo a trabajar contigo"
(“Pepe – [Dad’s, and all called Joseph, nickname then] – come on, he is our only son. Give him a job with you”)
Mum almost pleaded with my father for him to "employ" me.
Dad knew better!
"Tete, es un flojo y un enterao! Que se busque las abichuelas el solo!"
("Tete – [Mum's nickname] -he is a lazy, know-it-all. Let him find his own way in life!").
Yup, Dad loved me with a passion, but he had sussed me out oh, so accurately!
In the end, Mum prevailed .... which reminds me of a favourite saying of my father's:
"Si tu mujer te dice que te tires por la ventana ...procura de estar en planta baja!"
("If your wife tells you to jump out of the window, make sure you are on the ground floor!")
So, Dad called me one morning:
"What did you learn in school that you can help me with in the shop?"
"Dad, I learnt algebra...." I replied, thinking that would be useful, or at least more useful than physics, chemistry or Latin, all of which I had failed in.
"Algebra huh...? OK, you start today. Here is the broom, start sweeping the corridor and then all the shop."
Yes, my first day at work and I had just been promoted to "Broom Manager"! This came with the added “advantage” of cleaning the windows and brushing the dust off the suits.
Enter my cousin Isaque.
My cousin, the late Isaque Abudarham, was like an older brother to me. He was also an admirer of my father's business acumen. He would let me vent about the “struggle & hardship” I was going through with my task-master Dad.
As my adopted guru and confessor, at some point in my then working life, I poured my woes to him. And I had a lot to complain about.
9 hour Mon-Fri days, 4 hours every Sunday morning, plus Saturday evenings after sundown (once Shabbat was over) another 3 hours ..... and all for £5 a week!
I was a walking, talking, veritable Shop Steward’s “cause celebre!”
The fact that Dad had the burden of loans and overdraft payments to meet each month had not yet sunk into my irresponsible brain. Isaque pointed out how much work Dad was doing, let alone Mum who handled the paperwork at home, but that meant nothing to me at the time. Seeing how this rant was getting nowhere, he turned to me angrily, look me directly in the eyes:
"You will never be as good as Tito Pepe!" stated Isaque, referring to my Dad, his uncle, almost with a sneer.
And with that he walked away, leaving me angry, frustrated and yes rather confused. Where was the usual ‘big brother’ consolation? Where was the empathy?
I would show him!
I could be as good as Dad or even better!
I would!
Little did I know that Isaque had channelled me perfectly into a role I have still not learnt how to get out of. To this day all you have to do is tell me I cannot do something and there I go, riding on my white charger, in full battle armour, tilting windmills and pushing back the waves like Canute, until I beat down any challenge! ….or sunk trying….
Over the next for 3 or 4 years I proved myself to the point that Dad started giving me more and more of the responsibility of the shop. One thing I loved doing was placing orders for the next season’s fashion such as it was then.
In those days, manufacturers had representatives or agents wherever they were selling their goods. These Reps would arrive at the shop with their samples and price lists, swatches of colours and delivery dates, and I would place an order for the following season, all in good time, and at the leisurely pace that life was lived then.
One day Mr Marco Benady, Rep for the famous Van Heusen shirts,
"Are you sure about this, David?"
Like any other gambler, I was hot for this slim fit idea....
"Dad, Marco says the other shops have not bought them. They do not see why shirts should come "slim fit" ... we'll be the only ones, or at least the first ones, with this new look!"
If you think I was brave, Dad, who would have to pay for this in the end, was even braver. The order went through!
Canny Mr Benady, seeing my enthusiasm - I was the only youngster in the clothing business at the time – paid a second visit to the other outfitters in town and, using my enthusiasm as a sales pitch, convince them to place trial orders too.
Our order arrived some 3 months later. If anyone remembers the 50-foot long corridor entrance of TEO, I used up one whole window just displaying these amazing shirts.
And they sold, and sold, and sold!
But I had truly ordered much more that I could sell within its season. Realising my mistake, I did what is now common business practice and made a special offer of 25% discount on these shirts.
That is when the walls came tumbling down!
In those days, outfitters would hold 2 sales per year, one at the end of the summer to clear off the summer stock left over; the other at the end of winter. Our competitors at the time went, not just to Mr Benady, but to the various other reps of other suppliers and complain bitterly about my tactics.
"Who was this whippersnapper? El hijo de Pepe Bentata que se cree que sabe todo"
("Pepe Bentata's son, the little know-it-all! Cutting down the price a month before the sales!")
That was not all. The Reps were told that if they sold any more of the brands they represented, to me, to TEO, they would refuse to place any further orders with those Reps themselves.
The better Reps, Mr Benady among them and also Mr Harry Chichon, a true gentleman if ever there was one, had a big pow-wow with Dad.
Either I stopped the offer or we would not be sold anything from them or their suppliers any more.
And this is the point of this chapter.
This is what we should all learn.
In the first place, Dad, despite our many arguments on who knew best about running the business, stood by me all the way! Seeing this support from my boss, my father, my business partner, I made a decision that changed the course of TEO, and me, forever.
"Dad, let me go to London. There is something called IMBEX, a trade show there in a place called Earl's Court and there are many, many manufacturers and suppliers we have not even heard of here, all offering different ranges that we do not find in Gib yet."
The door to buying from local Reps had been closed on me ..... but a new, vast door was open in London, which in the main, local traditional traders had not yet really explored.
From that moment on we never bought from any local Reps or suppliers who also sold to any competitor of ours in Gibraltar. 
It was the "blackmail" from our competitors which launched TEO into what it became from then on. This is what planted the seeds of independence within me. The support and backing that Dad gave me instilled a self-confidence that burns bright inside me to this day.
So, whenever you are challenged, whenever the opposition is too strong, think that perhaps these difficulties could well be the launching pad for a better and brighter future for yourself.
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