I'm going to always keep it a buck: Vol. 2 didn't sell out.
And for a minute, before the music dropped, before the shots were poured, before 50-something people were laughing and playing R&B bingo under the Atlanta sky, that bothered me.
I had expectations. I had a number in my head. And when we didn't hit it, that familiar founder anxiety showed up right on cue.
But then the night happened. And I had to let the night teach me something.
Everyone Told Me Not to Do It
Let me back up, because the story of Vol. 2 starts before the night itself.
When I floated the idea of hosting a second event so close to Vol. 1, almost everyone in my circle said the same thing: wait. Give it more time. Don't rush it. And honestly? They weren't wrong. The gap between Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 was tight, and I knew it.
I hesitated. I second-guessed myself. And then I went ahead and booked it anyway.
What I didn't realize (or maybe what I conveniently forgot) was that I had planned Vol. 2 on the same weekend I had to move out of my apartment.
So in the days leading up to the event, I was packing boxes and pulling together event logistics at the same time. Planning on top of packing. The kind of exhaustion that isn't just physical, it gets into your head. By the time June 27th arrived, I was dreading it. I was kicking myself for not listening, for not waiting until July the way people told me to. I was running on empty and I hadn't even started setup yet.
But here's what I know: I can make plans, and I can doubt those plans, and I can wear myself completely out in the process. God still has the final say. And He decided that night was going to work. So I let Him push me through it.
Atlanta Had Other Plans
If you were in the city on June 27th, you already know. Atlanta was in full World Cup mode. Games were happening, traffic was a nightmare, and we were hosting a rooftop event right in the middle of all of it.
People were late. Not a few people. A lot of people. And that slow start tested me in a way I didn't fully anticipate. I was already exhausted from setup, the kind of tired that lives in your feet and your lower back and the part of your brain that's been running logistics for weeks. Standing there watching an only-partially-filled room while the clock ticked past start time was not the vibe I had envisioned.
So we did what you do. We poured some shots. We got started anyway.
Then the Room Opened Up
Here's what I've learned about events: the energy has a life of its own. You can't manufacture it and you can't force it. But when it arrives, it arrives.
And it arrived.
Once people settled in, once the music found its rhythm and the bingo cards were in hand, something shifted. The room loosened. People who came as strangers started talking like they knew each other. The laughter got louder. The competitiveness got real. Because if you've never played R&B bingo in a room full of people who actually know every lyric, you're missing something.
By the end of the night, the feedback was overwhelmingly positive. People had a great time. And honestly? So did I, even through the exhaustion, even through the slow start, even through the anxiety that showed up uninvited at the beginning.
The energy of the room carried me through in a way I didn't expect. That's the thing about building something for community. The community gives it back to you.
What I'm Taking Into Vol. 3
Not selling out doesn't mean the event failed. That's the reframe I had to make, and I'm making it publicly because I think a lot of event organizers and small business owners need to hear it.
Fifty people showed up on a World Cup game night in Atlanta traffic to drink cocktails, play bingo, and vibe to R&B on a rooftop. Fifty people chose this over everything else the city was offering that night. That's not a consolation prize. That's a community showing up.
What Vol. 2 confirmed for me is that this series has legs. The concept works. The energy works. The people who find it, love it. Now the work is making sure more people find it.
Vol. 3 is coming and we're building on everything this night taught us. The slow start, the traffic, the exhaustion, the magic that happened anyway. All of it goes into making the next one better.
To Everyone Who Came Out
Thank you. Genuinely. You showed up on a complicated night in a busy city and you brought your whole energy with you. That's not something I take lightly.
Lovers & Plants exists because of rooms like the one we built on June 27th. And we're just getting started.
Stay close. Vol. 3 is going to be something.
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