Ok, so I decided to negotiate. I could settle. They started to wear me down. I'm tired of dealing with it. And I started thinking maybe I was acting selfishly. What if they offered me enough money to change the name that I could suck it up, work my ass off, suffer some loss in goodwill and brand recognition, and pay off some of my debt? My investors deserve to be paid as quickly as I can come up with money. And if Starbucks wants to provide that...
So I sat down with my lawyer, talked it over, hashed out a plan, came up with some numbers, and he proceeded to write another letter. He wrote a fine letter. (You wrote a fine letter, Ryan.) But when I read it, I felt like I might vomit. It gave me a headache and just turned my brain inside out. I felt like I was arguing with myself. Like I was arguing with the letter. So I ranted for a while, pacing back and forth in my store, and then I went to lunch. I thought and thought about the decision I had to make. I had considered everything from all angles. I had thought about the probable consequences of every action I might take. I thought about the decision between taking money from Starbucks and paying lawyers to defend me against Starbucks. I thought about the possibility of being so distracted by this that I lose my focus from what's most important: the coffee. And that's why I decided to settle. I have a price, right? Money is time, and I could desperately use some time.
But something was bothering me. I couldn't go through with it. I called Ryan and told him what I was thinking. It wasn't the numbers. It was this silly lawyer game we were playing. Starbucks is being vague because they don't want to put themselves out there. And I was doing my best to fend them off. But I don't want their money. They can go to hell. I want what is right. I want the problem to be solved. That's not going to happen with money changing hands. That's going to happen when someone corrects the mistake that was made that caused this situation.
Ryan asked me how much money it would take. I said a billion dollars. No, a trillion dollars- I'll start working on the national debt, and we'll think about it. I told him my final offer was this:
Starbucks pays my legal fees and they go to the USPTO and amend their "STARBUCKS DOUBLESHOT" trademark with a disclaimer on the descriptive word "doubleshot."
He said they would never do it. I told him to get Howard Schultz on the phone. I want to talk to him. Howard knows the truth; he wrote it in his book (oddly enough).
So Ryan called John Rawls at Fulbright & Jaworski to tell him that I'm not going to settle. Ryan told him that I'm not motivated by money. He said I wanted to talk to Howard Schultz. Why does everyone think that's so funny? It's his company bullying mine. He's a person just like me. He may be a little less of a person, but still we could probably accomplish more man to man than lawyer to lawyer.
Anyway, Rawls said "I guess we might have to do this the hard way." I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I think he means that they aren't going to voluntarily add the disclaimer to their trademark, and so I'm going to have to do it for them.
Ok everyone, say it all together now: "You can't afford to fight Starbucks!"
I can't afford not to fight. What if they gave me $250,000 or a $million or $50million to change the name of my company? I would go out in the desert for a little while, have to live with conscience, and then I'd shoot myself. I can't do it. Some people could get away with that. But not me. Whatever happens, happens.
But I'm not going to bow down to anyone. Starbucks is breaking the law. The law says that no one can trademark a generic or descriptive term in an industry. They've done it, and now they're trying to bully me out of one of my freedoms, as granted by the Constitution of the United States of America. I'm not down with that. They can go to hell.
So it's on.
This is ridiculous.