Austinites are invested in the future of Cheer Up Charlies, financially and emotionally. The proof is in their wallets and their social media feeds.
When co-owners Maggie Lea and Tamara Hoover announced on Aug. 21 that they’d be locked out of their queer bar and performance venue by the end of the month if they didn’t pay over $58,000 in back rent debts, more than 11,000 people donated to two separate fundraisers. By the next evening, the clearly beloved venue had reached its donation goal.
At the same time, many took to Instagram – and the Chronicle inbox – to voice questions and concerns. Citizens, including parody account-gone-guerrilla journalist @kuc_bignews, noted packed crowds and publicly available profit numbers, questioning how the bar could be in such dire straits. Others aired grievances about personal interactions with ownership, revealing what they felt to be shoddy management.
Lea and Hoover shared images of their overdrafted bank account on Instagram a few days later, followed by screenshots showing the donated amount clearing the majority of their expenses, which had increased to include rent due for the month of September. They shared with the Chronicle that the leftover money helped pay off tax debt and create a payroll nest egg to support staff in slower months.
For a private business, this transparency is unusual – but dipping their toes into public funding led many community members to demand financial clarity from the colorful bar. “Cheer Ups is a very special little place,” Lea acknowledges a week after the fundraiser, as the dust began to settle. “It never was meant to function like a bar bar. People feel like, ‘I’m part of a community, I invested. If it wasn’t my money, it was my time, my energy, my creativity.’”
Diving Into the Numbers
Lea and Hoover have done their best to make good on the promise of transparency, laying out some of the financial challenges they’ve faced since the pandemic, including rising insurance expenses and merchant cash advance loans that have zapped their profits at varying times.
According to publicly available Mixed Beverage Gross Receipts, Cheer Up Charlies reported a revenue of $82,988 in January 2025. Reading from a Profits and Losses document from that month, Lea and Hoover listed their expenses. They report their rent as $18,000 per month. Liquor liability and event liability insurance, mandatory for all venues, was disclosed as a bundled $5,000 a month. Utilities and waste removal, which vary month to month, were reported for January as a rounded $2,000 and $1,000, respectively. Maintenance, which includes cleaning and groundskeeping, is a set weekly expense which adds up to $4,400 per month.
For the following figures, the co-owners disclosed the percentage of revenue each expense accounted for. Payroll fluctuates in response to event sizes and staff needed. The co-owners reported their payroll expense as 28.7% of that month’s total revenue. This comes out to $23,817.56. Goods can also oscillate, depending on seasonal menus and bar needs. They stated that 23% of their monthly revenue went toward paying for bar goods – largely alcohol and mixers – for a total of $19,087.24.
The entertainment space did not include earnings made from at-door cover charges in this receipt – neither did any of their Red River Cultural District counterparts. Lea stated that prior to this most recent financial reckoning, they have been paying talent 100% of the money made through cover charges, in addition to 10% of bar cuts for certain acts, depending on individual agreements. The total of these cuts paid out to entertainment for the month of January was reported as a dollar amount: $3,500.
Mixed Beverage Gross Receipts Tax a 6.7% tax that bar owners must pay on their mixed beverage revenue directly to the Texas State Comptroller – it can not be passed onto the customer like the 8.25% Mixed Beverage Sales Tax you might see on your receipts. Thus, an employer is always required to pay 6.7% tax on their mixed beverage earnings.
The Chronicle has arranged these expenses into a table, listing both the monetary amount and the percentage amount of total revenue accounted for by each category.
Though these numbers reveal slim profit margins, skeptical community members noted months of higher revenues, leading to questions about the owner’s financial practices. Some wondered whether Lea and Hoover’s 2019 lease on the Rio Rita bar space, which they announced in November of that year, had contributed negatively to Cheer Ups’ stability. The owners originally planned to re-open Rio Rita, then launched plans in 2021 to rebrand it as a queer dancefloor called She She Lounge. Renovations have since delayed that dream. Lea and Hoover explain that their role in one day opening the She She Lounge in that location is made possible by separate investors and the venture is operated out of a different LLC.
“Cheer Ups does not pay for Rio Rita or She She Lounge,” Lea asserts vehemently.
Workplace Complaints
Internal personnel operations also became the subject of online scrutiny, as past employees and performers spoke up about bounced checks and unorganized management.
Wyatt Beere worked at Cheer Up Charlies from February 2023 through June 28, 2025. Earlier this spring, a decision from Lea and Hoover to cut back on weekend barback staff struck Beere as irresponsible and ignorant of bartenders’ needs. Many of their coworkers agreed. In March, they put together a letter with over 20 of their fellow employees, asking for a management model that would help bridge the gap between employee and owner and addressing other issues that arose as the coworkers talked.
“[The letter] just kind of outlines our concerns. A lot of them are, you know, our checks bouncing [and] the [need for] structure,” Beere explains. They say an unprofessional atmosphere was also a concern, noting harsh feedback from management and inconsistent communication.
Beere sent the letter, addressed to Lea and Hoover, in the company’s group chat. Lea says they worked through the problems and anxieties addressed in the letter at a staff meeting, eventually leading her and Hoover to hire a new bar manager, as requested.
“I’m happy that they [wrote and sent the letter]. Truly, truly, from the bottom of my heart I’m proud of them for doing that. It helped me grow as a leader,” Lea says. “I believe that people need to say what bothers them in a business early on, and I do believe that it’s a trickle down from management, and I do think leadership needs to be held accountable.”
Beere continued to work at Cheer Ups for several months after sending the letter but was fired in June for “acting outside of the scope [their] role” in the chain of command and improperly charging friends for drinks, according to Lea and Hoover’s dismissal documentation, reviewed by the Chronicle. Beere, who was not shown the documentation and emphatically disputes Lea and Hoover’s characterization of why they were dismissed, believed their organizing efforts caused their dismissal. They filed two complaints with the National Labor Relations Board; one was dismissed by the board and the other remains open.
Past production manager Javier Corona also attested to the occasionally chaotic, reactive tone management could take.
“I can recall a few times that I was threatened or even fired in the middle of a shift only to be rehired five to 10 minutes later based on some arbitrary, really random complaint. The night life is very fast paced, and it’s very stressful. And especially doing production management, doing any sort of production for live shows, that gets exponentially stressful,” he says. “Part of the reason why we had a rotating staff is [because] a lot of people couldn’t deal with that pressure on top of the production pressure.” Corona quit the bar earlier this summer after three years.
“I understand the uncomfortableness of having your check bounce from your employer,” Lea says. “It’s uncomfortable. It’s not right. Your check should never bounce from your employer. I stand by that.”
Bounced checks continued to be a problem for some employees and performers who worked with Cheer Up Charlies this spring and summer. Lea and Hoover are adamant that everyone has now been appropriately compensated.
“Every person who was on payroll received a paycheck. I have all their paystubs to prove it. Nobody was ever not paid. As far as gig performers and bands, I have a Rolodex of checks sitting at CUC in our safe, some dating back to 2018-19. I assume people forget to pick up their payouts,” Lea wrote in a text to the Chronicle.
Ty Hoselton, who worked briefly as a barback for the club in June and July 2025, agrees that he was eventually paid in full for his labor. However, he told the Chronicle that four of his checks bounced and the gap between pay day and actual payment was detrimental to his rental history, credit scores, and personal finances.
“I understand the uncomfortableness of having your check bounce from your employer,” Lea says. “It’s uncomfortable. It’s not right. Your check should never bounce from your employer. I stand by that.”
When asked how the club plans to avoid such situations in the future, Lea reported that they’ve opened a separate payroll account – and deposited the remaining balance of the fundraised money there. “Now, if ever there was an issue where money needed to be drawn from the main account, it won’t impact the payroll. And we’re moving to direct deposit too, instead of checks,” Lea says.
Blue Tongue bandleader Tre Pham was left similarly frustrated after Cheer Ups hosted the band’s fourth annual Shrek Fest on June 28. As the event organizer, Pham was responsible for paying out his bandmates, an AV crew he’d hired, and the other acts that performed. Pham was confident the festival would draw a crowd and repeatedly maintained that he didn’t want a cut of bar sales, just 100% of the earnings from a $10 door charge, to which Lea agreed. Pham was right – at the end of the night they had made over $4,000.
In the month that followed, Pham received those earnings in inconsistent increments, following text exchanges with Lea and repeated stops by the bar in person. When an initial check for $1,500 bounced after he’d paid members of the event team, it left Pham in the red, charging him overdraft fees which Lea did agree to pay.
“I do like what Cheer Ups is – the space and the community – and I think it deserves to stay, but it really needs a new management,” Pham says.
“There’s a lot of bothering her throughout the month just to get my money and a lot of ‘I’ll pay you by this day. I’ll pay by this day. We might close next week so that’s what’s going on.’ Like, that sucks, but I need my money,” Pham says. To his mind, the money he was owed should never have factored into the business’ revenue since their agreement had been that Pham would walk away with all of the money made at the door.
The experience also left Pham feeling personally frustrated, torn between a love for the bar’s unique stage and the inclusive, queer community that’s made a home there and the negative experience of nagging management.
“I do like what Cheer Ups is – the space and the community – and I think it deserves to stay, but it really needs a new management,” Pham says. “I know it’s hard to be a venue and just [to be] in this industry right now. I’ve seen it. I’ve been in it. I worked in music for most of my adult life so I’m not a stranger to it, but there’s definitely some mismanagement of funds going on.”
“As far as payments go, this is the worst. Every other venue in town, they’ve taken maybe a few days, but they’ve been pretty transparent,” Pham says, stressing the need for post-show settlement sheets and kicking himself for not insisting on a signed pre-show agreement.
Corona also bemoans the lack of formal agreements with performers.
“Not a lot of contracts were being written with artists and there was a lot of hearsay, and that did lead to a lot of unfulfilled payments to artists and talents. It was a lot more casual and there was no real recourse that anyone could take,” remembers Corona.
“It’s very real that Cheer Ups is a safe space for its community and places like it need to stay alive by whatever means possible, but at the same time it was starting to get a little hard hearing them advocate for ethical employment practices and [giving voice to] minority groups in the community when the reality was that it felt a lot like the booking and event planning was surrounding Maggie’s friends and Maggie’s direct connections,” Corona told the Chronicle.
Lea, for her part, did state that as the venue’s sole booker, personal contacts often fill in the stage schedule. “Our space is very much based on the handshake. Our partnerships are very organic, and a lot of them are my friends,” Lea says. The co-owner went on to explain that friends, to her, is a broader term encompassing many creatives she’s met throughout her years as a bar owner. The practice is perhaps not uncommon for small venues without specific booking staff or partnerships with production companies – something Lea later said she would be open to implementing. The owner duo is also looking into third-party ticketing options, like TuneHatch, to make the payment process more straightforward for performers.
“Relationships are built on trust, and we know that trust isn’t given easily,” says Hoover, the bar’s founder and current co-owner. “[We’re] just trying to be transparent with the community about our successes and our struggles. We’re trying to do our best to make sure that people see the full picture. We work really hard to keep the doors open.”
The State of Red River
Keeping the doors open is a struggle for many venues in Austin’s Red River Cultural District despite policy and financial support from the city government, as well as district-organized events like Free Week and Hot Summer Nights, meant to buoy venue revenue during slow seasons. Music Venue Alliance Austin founder and president Rebecca Reynolds says many independent venue owners have hesitated to talk openly about the challenges they face – whether out of a sense of pride or an understanding that musicians themselves are also struggling financially, or both.
“There’s historically been a rift between musicians and venues in this town because I think when people see these are business owners and there’s tons of people in [their venue] and they’re charging so much for drinks and tickets, [they think] they’ve gotta be rolling in money,” Reynolds says.
After COVID, however, Reynolds saw small and mid-sized venues change their tune, opening up about rising expenses and a real need for financial support as they struggled to recover from pandemic-related debts. MVAA worked with other entertainment organizations in the city to create the Live Music Fund and the statewide alcohol tax rebate program, which have been further bolstered by the creation of the Office of Arts, Culture, Music, and Entertainment and other city initiatives like the Iconic Venue Fund.
“There is no rock & roll retirement program, there’s no Red River 401K,” Moody says.
In the years of post-pandemic performances, inflating expenses and cultural trends around drinking and going out in general have reshaped revenue expectations.
“People are spending less money on tickets and cover charges. It’s no secret people are drinking less. Which, from a public health perspective is obviously a very good thing, and yet it’s gonna take this industry some time to figure out how to transition their reliance on that revenue string,” Reynolds says. While revenues drop, expenses creep up.
In Austin, property taxes continue to rise year after year. According to Reynolds, some venues hold triple net leases, which allow landlords to push the expense of property taxes, building insurance, and maintenance onto their tenants. Liquor liability insurance is also of particular concern, with venues reporting 200 to 300% increases in their premiums.
“While each venue has its own unique set of financials based on their landowner, where they are on their lease, how well the operators are managing their budgets, those are some overall things that are putting added strain on all venues across the city – or everywhere actually,” says Reynolds.
The National Independent Venue Association released a 2025 State of Live Report summarizing profitability and challenges faced by independent music venues across the country. According to that report, insurance, rent, maintenance, and beverage costs have gone up in the past year and are expected to continually increase. NIVA found that 64% of independent stages were not profitable in 2024.
Independent venues, as acknowledged by NIVA and every one else in the industry, are united in one fact only: their uniqueness. Though overarching themes persist, each location generates revenue to their own specifications and faces expenses tailored to them.
“Every business has different models,” Barbarella and Swan Dive owner Jon-Erik Garcia says. It’s a refrain Garcia, who also serves as the president of the Red River Cultural District, knows well. “All of my neighbors – I love them very much and we all operate our businesses very differently,” he says. “That’s what brings us together and makes us unique. I see us as an ecosystem.”
Garcia’s work with the RRCD advocates for entertainment-friendly economic city policies like reduced permitting costs. They also work with the City Council, the chief of police, and the fire department to address safety and infrastructure concerns within the district.
“I’m 15 years deep in Red River,” Garcia says. He knows expenses and revenues fluctuate and all venues on the street face issues with parking and walkability. In his work as a club owner, Garcia does his best to save up during busy months and keep on top of tax dates. “I’ve always looked at the variables that come up within the year, and I always plan ahead.”
“All of my neighbors – I love them very much and we all operate our businesses very differently,” Garcia says. “That’s what brings us together and makes us unique. I see us as an ecosystem.”
Barbarella and Swan Dive host more DJ events – often spun by Garcia himself – than live shows, reducing costs. Whereas Cheer Ups only charges a cover on certain events, Barbarella’s post-10:30pm $6 cover charge policy helps them clear lighting and security overheads. Live performances by musicians or drag artists, when they do happen, are paid for through $10 cover charges.
“When you’re in music, you have to pay extra money that a bar doesn’t have to – you have to pay for security, equipment, sound and lighting,” Mohawk founder James Moody explains. Venues shoulder these specific expenses in addition to upkeep, though their drinks-based revenue stream is identical to that of bars who operate with lower overheads.
Moody is all too familiar with the industry’s tight margins. “The squeeze is on, profitability is hard,” he says. Moody is adamant that Mohawk has found survival, not success, through implementing a different business model than Cheer Ups. As RRCD patrons know, Mohawk books different kinds of acts for a different space. They also have formed partnerships with brands like Vans and, now, Marshall.
“There’s a lot of different ways to cut it,” Moody says, and finding a way to cut it that matches space and resources is stressfully imperative: “There is no rock & roll retirement program, there’s no Red River 401K.”
In the fragile, never-guaranteed ecosystem of Red River, Cheer Up Charlies has carved out its niche as the home for queer storytelling event Greetings, From Queer Mountain, femmes-and-thems electronic festival Babestock, and countless other queer and sapphic events. The thought of this queer cornerstone crumbling is particularly concerning amid anti-LGBTQIA legislation and hostile political rhetoric in the state and national arena.
“All city capitals in every state are always a hotbed for those issues and with rights being taken away, we do seek spaces [where] we feel welcomed and [that] we feel safe in. And to lose those spaces – or even to see a threat of losing those spaces – it makes you feel uneasy, and it makes you just want to throw money on it,” Garcia says, pointing to the fundraiser that sparked all this debate and discussion.
Die-hards and skeptics alike insist that Cheer Up Charlies and its community are crucial to the district, the queer community, and Austin at large. How and how long can the club keep the calendar booked and cocktails pouring – that’s what remains to be seen. Hoover dreams of cafe hours, Lea has talked about taking the nightclub public: Both owners see a way forward through new models.
“We’re doing everything in our power right now to make this float. We’re trying our best to get this in a place where it’s stable. That’s our goal: to stabilize, to make this sustainable, to make it grow, to make it worth the community. Obviously this place is really valued by the city,” says Hoover. “We really want to be the stewards to keep it afloat.”
Editor’s note: This article was updated to reflect that Beere filed two complaints with the National Labor Relations Board and to additionally clarify that Beere was not shown dismissal documentation and disputes their former employers’ characterization of the dismissal.
