He Makes Driveways. I Make Excuses.

What happens when you stop chasing and start shucking

I drove 60 miles to eat 42 oysters yesterday.

And drink a beer. Or two.

Life.

Well, she ate half the oysters. One of them was the size of a hamburger. That’s a tough oyster to chew.

We sat at the bar—always. It’s the best seat in the house. Across from us: three men, hunched over a mountain of ice, shucking oysters like machines. One never looked up. One never smiled. The third—the one in front of us—was the talker. Brian.

He positioned each oyster in his left hand, tapped it with his knife, and decided in a flash: toss it or shuck it. His motions were fluid. Automatic. Reverent, even.

This is my favorite restaurant in Florida. A shack the size of two trailers, drowning in dollar bills pinned to every inch of the wall and ceiling. No liquor license. No ceaser salads. No burgers. Just beer and a ridiculous number of oysters.

“Last July, we went through a million trays,” Brian said, still shucking. Oyster juice flying.

There are 12 oysters per tray.
Do the math.
Twelve million oysters.

Every so often, he’d pause, massage his wrists, and keep going. He wore latex gloves. The OG next to him wore a proper oyster glove. That man looked like he’d been shucking since Jesus was a kid.

Turns out a few oyster-shucking world champions have come out of this place.

“What do y’all do with all the shells?” I asked.

Brian didn’t look up. “Make driveways.”

Oh.

I sat there watching him and felt something I didn’t expect—envy. A man who shucks oysters all day shouldn’t make me question my entire life, but here we are.

See, in my world—personal branding—“authenticity” is a buzzword.
Everyone’s out here screaming:
“Be authentic!”
“Be the real you!”

But what if the real you is kind of an asshole?
What if the real you just wants to quit things halfway through?
What if the “real you” changes every six months?

That’s me.

Well, not the asshole but…I’ve been good at a lot of things. Started a hundred ideas.
But I’ve never stuck with one long enough to become world-class.
I’ve never had oyster hands.

This place though—it’s authentic. But not because it says it is.
Because it doesn’t try to be anything else.
No chicken fingers. No sliders. No frozen margaritas.

Just oysters. And a few tired men who show up every day to do one thing better than anyone else.

And I think that’s the kind of authenticity we’re all really craving—
Not the messy, unfiltered version of ourselves,
But the part of us willing to show up, day after day, and do the one thing we were made to do.

Truth is, I don’t know what my “one thing” is.
But I know I want it.
I want to build something I can be proud of.
Something I don’t have to pivot away from every time I get bored or scared.

Life.

I watched Brian twist another oyster open…
And I thought:

Maybe success isn’t found in the next idea.
Maybe it’s found in the last one I didn’t finish.

I don’t need another idea. I need a knife, a glove, and the guts to stay.

Trey

Trey’s Book Club (Population: 1)

Here are the three books I’m currently reading:

1. Never Split the Difference by Chris Voss
Trying to level up my communication skills—which, honestly, need drastic improvement. Stephan recommended this book, and he is smart.

2. All the Colors of the Dark
A fiction book that’s pretty damn good so far. Simple language, easy to follow, and packed with suspense.
I tried to read Demon Copperhead, but that author lady tries too hard to sound fancy. I couldn’t get through a single sentence without feeling like I was doing SAT prep. Lame.

3. I Forgot to Die by Khalil Rafati
A raw memoir about being a crack and heroin addict on Skid Row, getting clean, and then starting SunLife Organics—aka the place with a $33 smoothie in LA.
If that guy can go from rock bottom to $30 million, I can too.
Step one: start drinking expensive smoothies.

So…
What are you reading?