#13 The Power of Stakes

Good Day Brewers - Pang here! ☕

The past two weeks had been a little hectic for me.

My dad just went through a knee-scope surgery and being the sole caregiver can be challenging.

But I’m still showing up each week, bringing to you some of my best personal stories.

Because the stakes are high for each week that I choose not to show up!

So, no excuses!

P.S. If you’re enjoying the warm stories so far, be sure to drop me your feedback and thoughts!

Estimated reading time: 2,157 words - 9 mins 4 secs

Baggage

It was 11.54 am.

I had four hours to kill.

I headed over to the food court.

The food court was packed like Sardine with the lunch crowd. The delicious aroma of chicken from a nearby Hainanese Chicken Rice stall wafted through the air. The frenzied hustle and bustle saw people darting in every direction, eagerly queuing up for their meals.

I had a bunch of stuff with me too.

My laptop had lots of precious memories stored as photos. My dad needed those crutches after his operation. He had to change out before the surgery, so his clothes and shoes were also in his bag. Those were his only set and there weren’t any clothing shops in the vicinity. And finally, his precious phone was in the bag too — the one he uses to flip stocks.

They had been with me since we stepped out of the house. But now they had become my responsibility.

They weren’t just emotional baggage. They were physical baggage too. The pair of crutches weigh at least 15 pounds. But with the weight of his bag, it might as well be 500 pounds.

The stakes were high. I wanted to leave them by the seat. But how could I just leave them unguarded at the table I was sitting at?

We’re in a place where you could see people limping and hobbling everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if a desperate old man actually steal those crutches. What if they were stolen? Is my dad gonna limp home looking like a clown in a surgical costume?

I stood there, calculating my thoughts and placing my bets. Maybe I should just wait here.

As I sat down, I was staring at the queue right in front of me, looking for a weakness — an opportunity for me to swoop in like an eagle scouting for its prey.

Unknowingly, I was indulging in the act of people-watching.

At first, there were six people lining up in a straight line fashion — mostly elderly. Then they were joined by this middle-aged woman who was pushing a young man in a wheelchair with a drip stand beside him.

Then the old uncle behind her got his order taken. He was cursing and swearing at the lady serving the counter, chiding at her slow service.

Next, a bunch of school students joined the queue. They were all glued to their phones, chattering loudly. All of a sudden, one of them shouted “Help me!”

Yea, turns out he was desperate for help in a mobile game when people here needed help in real life.

The queue continued to fluctuate. From six to twelve. Then to seven. Back to eleven. Then to six. Back to twelve again.

At this point, I’m just wondering. Did people just keep coming? Or was the staff attending the counter simply just as slow as a snail with her hands?

I couldn't help but feel restless. The lunch rush had come and gone, leaving behind an abundance of empty tables and chairs. I glanced over at the queue and began counting the number of people waiting to be served. As I counted the number in line, my frustration grew. There were still six people waiting in line. How could it be still so long?

I took a quick look at my Apple watch. It was already 2 pm.

What the hell man!? I’ve been waiting for over two hours?

By now I’m now so thirsty I could gulp a swimming pool.

I could have gotten my favorite Kopi (slang for Nanyang Coffee) much earlier if I hopped into the queue when there were only six in the line.

Why didn’t I bring my water bottle along?

By then I had an epiphany.

Yes, I had wanted to ensure the safety of the belongings I was carrying, but was it worth waiting for over two hours just to join a shorter queue?

Waiting may not be the best solution after all, isn’t it?

So I carried the baggage with me, joined the queue, got my Kopi, and left the food court, determined to make the best of my remaining hours that day.

Pause..

Let’s pause for 30 seconds.

See if you can identify the “stakes” within this story.

No idea what “stakes” are?

Read on to find out!

What’s on the table?

Have you ever gambled at the casino? Or have you ever made a bet with a friend — one that you lost?

What did you lose? Was it something precious to you?

Those are “stakes” — something of value that could be lost in a particular situation.

But there are more to “stakes”.

The reason you put up a “stake” is that there’s a chance for you to win BIGGER.

You evaluate your risk-to-reward ratio and decided that it was going to be WORTH it.

Every story needs to have a “Stake”.

Why do I say so?

That’s because your audience has put up something on the table when they chose to read your story.

TIME. And ATTENTION.

We know how precious our time is and we certainly do not want to read through a story only to realize that at the halfway point, there’s no reason for us to go on to find out how it ends.

Or worse. After we’ve read through everything, we realize that this is a complete waste of time.

— The story is a mess. Confusing. Without a clear connection between different dots within the story. No clear lesson or takeaway for me. “SCREW YOU!”

That’s why you should ask yourself the following question when you’re reading through the story you’ve crafted.

“What am I losing?”

Try to put yourself in the audience's shoes at every critical point of the story.

“What am I losing” when I choose to pause here and spend my attention elsewhere instead of continuing with this story?

This is the best way to identify if there are “stakes” in your story.

An alternate way to look at it is:

Am I curious to find out more about how this story progresses and ends?

“Stakes” in Baggage

There were stakes throughout the above story.

Did you notice how I described the items I had with me when I had to kill four hours of time?

My laptop had lots of precious memories stored as photos.

— Indicating that my laptop is valuable, I couldn’t lose it.

My dad needed those crutches after his operation. He had to change out before the surgery, so his clothes and shoes were also in his bag. Those were his only set and there weren’t any clothing shops in the vicinity. And finally, his precious phone was in the bag too — the one he uses to flip stocks.

— Indicating that my dad’s crutches, his clothes, and his phone were all valuable as well.

They had been with me since we stepped out of the house. But now they had become my responsibility.

They weren’t just emotional baggage. They were physical baggage too. The pair of crutches weigh at least 15 pounds. But with the weight of his bag, it might as well be 500 pounds.

— Indicating that my dad’s items were now my responsibility. They were heavy too, which meant that they were an inconvenience. Do you notice how the stakes are starting to stack?

The stakes were high. I wanted to leave them by the seat. But how could I just leave them unguarded at the table I was sitting at?

— Why did I have to leave those items by the seat? This question will make you curious to read on.

As I sat down, I was staring at the queue right in front of me, looking for a weakness — an opportunity for me to swoop in like an eagle scouting for its prey.

— Even more questions are starting to surface in your mind. Why am I staring at the queue in front of me?

Unknowingly, I was indulging in the act of people-watching.

At first, there were six people lining up in a straight line fashion — mostly elderly. Then they were joined by this middle-aged woman who was pushing a young man in a wheelchair with a drip stand beside him.

Then the old uncle behind her got his order taken. He was cursing and swearing at the lady serving the counter, chiding at her slow service.

Next, a bunch of school students joined the queue. They were all glued to their phones, chattering loudly. All of a sudden, one of them shouted “Help me!”

Yea, turns out he was desperate for help in a mobile game when people here needed help in real life.

The queue continued to fluctuate. From six to twelve. Then to seven. Back to eleven. Then to six. Back to twelve again.

At this point, I’m just wondering. Did people just keep coming? Or was the staff attending the counter simply just as slow as a snail with her hands?

— In the above section, I’m building tension. Instead of jumping straight into the moment of the story, I’m trying to paint a picture in your mind — so the story sticks in your head. While I’m people-watching, you could also tell that I was getting impatient with the last two questions.

I couldn't help but feel restless. The lunch rush had come and gone, leaving behind an abundance of empty tables and chairs. I glanced over at the queue and began counting the number of people waiting to be served. As I counted the number in line, my frustration grew. There were still six people waiting in line. How could it be still so long?

— Now I’m starting to get frustrated. But you still don’t know the exact reason why I’m getting frustrated, do you? So read on to find out.

“I took a quick look at my Apple watch. It was already 2 pm.

What the hell man!? I’ve been waiting for over two hours?”

By now I’m now so thirsty I could gulp a swimming pool.

I could have gotten my favorite Kopi (slang for Nanyang Coffee) much earlier if I hopped into the queue when there were only six in the line.

— This is the moment of the story that you’ve been waiting for. It explains why I’ve been people-watching for the past two hours with my belongings close to me. My main intention of staring at the queue wasn’t to people-watch, was it?

Why didn’t I bring my water bottle along?

By then I had an epiphany.

Yes, I had wanted to ensure the safety of the belongings I was carrying, but was it worth waiting for over two hours just to join a shorter queue?

Waiting may not be the best solution after all, isn’t it?

So I carried the baggage with me, joined the queue, got my Kopi, and left the food court, determined to make the best of my remaining hours that day.

— This is how I ended the story with a quick lesson and a short conclusion.

Adding “Stakes” to your story.

Did you notice how I added “stakes” to my story above?

I did not start by saying “I was people-watching because I wanted to get my favorite Kopi.”

Why not?

Because that statement alone KILLS your story.

You’re telling your audience what your story is about at the start, so there’s little reason for your audience to want to find out what happens next. There are NO stakes.

If every single sentence of your story does not bring up “questions of curiosity” in your audience’s mind, it’s easy for them to just tap out of that story.

Are you brewing a story right now?

Be sure to reach out to me if you’re looking for feedback and tips on how to up the “stakes” within your story.

I’ll see you next week.

Your Barista,Pang

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