Owning a Vending Business - Is It A Real Career?

Owning a Vending Business - Is It A Real Career?

By Emily Zitek

I have been a blind vendor in the Business and Enterprises Program (BEP) of State Services for the Blind for almost seven years.  Because of the misconceptions that still exist regarding this program, I have been asked, more times than I could count if being a vendor is a real career.

Many people who have known of the vending program for a long time remember it as it used to be many years ago.  The Randolph-Sheppard Act was enacted when World War I soldiers were blinded from mustard gas.  As a result, those soldiers could no longer work in the jobs they had had before the war.  For those who don't know about this program, the Randolph-Sheppard Act is a federal law that states that a blind vendor has the first right of refusal to service vending machines and certain other food preparation in any state or federal building, before any other private vendor.  Even as recently as 20 years ago, there were probably 80 or more "vending stands," and many of the vending and store locations serviced by blind vendors in Minnesota made net profits of $10,000 a year, or even less.  It wasn't uncommon to see a blind man running a newspaper stand in the skyways in downtown Minneapolis or St.  Paul.  All they had to do was sit behind the counter all day and collect money while distributors stocked their store and someone else filled their machines.  The vending program was a less-than-ideal job that rehabilitation counselors often used as a last resort for clients who couldn't find any other employment.  This program used to be classified along the lines of a sheltered workshop, where people usually worked in factory settings, doing repetitious tasks and were paid substantially below minimum wage.  And I have to say that with the way things used to be in the vending program, a sheltered workshop wasn't too far-fetched.

But let's get with it!  This is 2014, and things have drastically changed!  We no longer have "vending stands," but the 45 or so blind vending operators in the BEP of Minnesota have "businesses" that make an average net profit of about thirty thousand dollars a year.  Some of the smaller vending locations combined to make larger, more desirable business opportunities.  More and more applicants look at this program and see that they can make a good living.  Back in the day, there really weren't many prerequisites to get into the vending program.  Ten years ago, you had to have decent math, reading and writing skills, be in decent physical shape in order to lift and pull cases of pop around, and have good travel and computer skills.  But even since then, the requirements to become a BEP student are much more challenging.  Before an applicant even starts vending school, that applicant must take two MNSCU college courses: one in basic accounting, and another in an introduction to small business.  Then there is a daylong certification course on food safety.

I like to call myself a sole proprietor, which means that I own a business and am responsible for every aspect of that business.  Many people assume that it is easy to be a vendor; after all, the only thing they think we have to worry about is filling vending machines and stocking the store.  But keeping products in stock is only one piece of the pie.  Although technicians are available to fix equipment, we have to have enough mechanical knowledge and ability to make some repairs on vending equipment, which isn't always easy and requires more than just using a screwdriver.  If a vending machine isn't working properly, you are losing money until that machine is repaired.  Everything about your business, good or bad, reflects upon you as a blind vendor.  One of the most challenging things I have to deal with is keeping track of expiration dates on products.  I use a talking bar code reader to identify products, but there is currently no technology that provides an instant read-out of those expiration dates.  Situations like this sometimes call for sighted assistance.  In this industry, time is money.  So if it takes me half an hour to do something by myself, when I could use a reader to help me get that same job done in five or ten minutes, I'm obviously saving time by using a reader.

There are good and bad things about being a sole proprietor.  If I have a doctor's appointment next week or want to take a week off to go to Hawaii next June, I don't have to consult with my boss about it.  However, taking time off will cost me, no matter how I handle the situation.  I could either close my store and leave the vending machines unserviced during my time off or hire someone to do the work while I'm gone; either way, it is money out of my pocket.  When I had been a salaried employee, I could take a week off and didn't have to worry about a thing.  The work would still be there when I got back.  Even when I'm on vacation, I'm still on call.  This means that when I get a call about a coffee machine leaking water or a pop machine freezing up, I still have to designate somebody to fix the problem and arrange for refunds, if necessary.  An advantage is that many vendors can keep their own hours.  In my case, since I have a store location, I have to work around store hours to get the vending machines filled.  Unlike being a salaried employee, I am responsible for taking taxes out of my own paycheck.  In fact, when I got into this program, I never knew that so many kinds of taxes existed.  There is sales tax, personal income tax, and tax on hired help; then there is the workers' compensation insurance that is required when you have an employee.  Medical insurance and retirement are solely my responsibility.  Each year, vending machines that sell food or coffee have to be licensed with the city, and food safety regulations have to be met at all times.  Rain, snow, or sunshine, people still expect their pop to be in the machines.  There are days when I am pulling 10 or more cases of pop, outdoors, from one building to another, which isn't always fun and relaxing.  Responding to service calls as soon as possible is very important to the customers and building management, and there are times when I'm just about ready to go home for the day but have to respond to a call about a machine not working properly.  One of the biggest mistakes people tend to make when they first come into this business is managing money.  It's easy to pull wads of money out of a vending machine and think, "Now I have all this money for myself.”  Let's say you pull $100 out of a pop machine.  By the time you pay for new products, overhead expenses, operational charges that go toward new parts and equipment, sales tax, hired help, and sometimes commission, you might only get to keep $15 or $20 of that money.

Being a vendor is very hard work.  Some days when my muscles are sore, I find myself missing the desk job I had in the past.  College education is now a requirement, and you have to be able to work independently and make decisions on a daily basis.  You have to maintain good stamina and be in good enough physical shape to lift cases of pop, haul products from building to building, and be on your feet while walking sometimes miles a day.  It isn't as easy as people make it out to be, but it is rewarding.  I can make my own decisions and educate people out in the community about the philosophy in which I believe.  This job allows me to show the people out in the community that I can do anything I set my mind to, and that my blindness is just another characteristic, like having brown hair and brown eyes.  Right now, I have one convenience store and over 30 vending machines in five different locations throughout downtown St.  Paul.  I do everything on foot, which means I do not use a driver and a vehicle.  I know I've worked hard when Friday afternoon comes around and I can hardly go up and down the stairs without my joints hurting, but that hurt is a good hurt.  It reminds me that I put in an honest week's work.  When a new staff member is hired at State Services for the Blind, they are sent to my locations for a day of job-shadowing.  This part of their training is a requirement so that they can see that with the right attitude, skills, and confidence, a blind person can be successful and independent in whatever career they choose.  The vending program in Minnesota has evolved from being just a petty little job for someone who needs something to do to a career consisting of successful blind people with substantial, gainful employment.  If this isn't a true career, then I can't think of much else that is.