Restaurant dreamers, line up your consultants ahead of time. Leslie Lucas, chronicler of restaurant start-ups on the television documentary show Opening Soon, wants to be first in line to advise you—to make sure you know what you’re doing and to be certain you’ll still have the money to pay her.

I'm thinking of starting a consulting company for wannabe restaurateurs.  I'll call it “Opening Soon: Are You Sure You Want to Do That?” The concept is so simple, it's brilliant. Just hear me out.

Before you step foot into a bank, before you sign a lease, before you even tell the person you share a bed with about your dirty little restaurant fantasy, you’ll come to me. We'll sit down. I'll order us a cocktail. I'll look at you; you'll look at me. I'll put my hands on the table and clasp my fingers together, to indicate the gravity of the situation (and to make myself feel important). "So tell me about this restaurant idea of yours," I'll say, smiling knowingly.

Your story will probably start with, "I started washing dishes at fifteen years old," and inevitably end with, "It's always been my dream to open my own restaurant."

Now this is where my talent comes in. It's all in the body language. I lean back slowly in my chair, cross my arms and stare off into the distance like I'm remembering things—from my vast second-hand experience in the industry. Then suddenly I dart forward and lock eyes with you, one eyebrow cocked, like De Niro does it, and I say, "Are you sure you want to do that?" (I pause for effect).

You’re confused. You say, “You mean, am I sure I want to open a restaurant?”

I say, “That’s exactly what I mean.” The implication being: you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into; your life as you know it will end; you do realize that most restaurants fail within two years; you seem like a nice person so please reconsider; for the love of God, reconsider. (You’d be amazed at what can be communicated through an intense facial expression.)

Now, television directors can be intimidating (it’s compensation for our inferiority complex—even the sound guys make more money than we do) and my unwavering righteousness will fill you with doubt so overwhelming that you'll give up this silly idea and go on to lead a happy, wealthy and stress-free life in construction, or massage therapy.  You’ll thank me (and pay me) and my work will be done.

Wicked idea for a consulting company, don’t you think? Think of how many lives, careers and relationships I’ll save. I’ve always wanted a job that makes the world a better place.

Of course, a few of you won't listen to me. (This will make me mad, because television directors get like that when people don't do what they want.)  But I understand that some of you may actually have a true calling to the industry. In this case, more power to you. Go ahead, build your restaurant. But before you do, at least take some free advice.

Never…
• Expect to open on time. Contractors lie. They don't mean to, but they do.

• Partner up with your spouse. Unless you want to kill the love and replace it with endless work and crippling debt which will bind you together for all eternity.

• Open a seafood restaurant in Winnipeg, Manitoba or anywhere in North Dakota. C'mon now, that just makes sense.

• Open a restaurant because you want to be popular. High school is over. Let it go.

• Design your restaurant around a water feature. They’re a big, expensive pain in the ass and unless you want to throw a couple of hundred thousand dollars at it, your waterfall will be more like a tinkle or a dribble. Buy a fish tank instead. They’re cute.

• Leave the menu development to the night before opening. 

• Trust a chef on drugs.

• Drug your chef.

Always…
• Plan on going over budget. It happens every time.

• Get an accountant, to deal with your budget issues.

• Get a therapist, to deal with your mother issues.

• Keep the faith. No matter how bad things get, you will open…it just may not be soon.