By Jim Hagarty
2011
It is a big shock to find the lights off at a business you normally go to, and a sign on the door announcing that a trustee has ordered the closure for non-payment of rent, etc. In some cases, it’s like losing a friend. Like a death, really, because you somehow never see the people who ran that business again.
This happened at a coffee shop around the corner from my house one day this spring. My first clue was no cars in the parking lot. Then the note on the door. A month went by, and every day as I drove by I looked in to see if anything was going on. Lo and behold, one happy morning some painters were sprucing up the exterior. Fantastic. Then word got around that a new restaurant was opening up. A breakfast and lunch deli.
All summer, as I walked our dog past the old coffee shop, workers were making changes, new signs were going up, the parking lot was being paved. Yippee! One night recently, I saw the lights on, and assuming the new place was open, I pulled on the door and went inside. I sometimes went there at night, when it was the old place. That was the best time. I would take my laptop, have a cookie and milk. Meet my friend Michael.
“We’re not open,” said one of the men inside. “Next weekend.”
I counted the sleeps till next weekend and the day it opened, I presented myself, laptop in hand, about 3:15 p.m. I sensed I was in trouble from the moment I walked in. The waitresses were in black, tuxedo-like outfits. And there were a number of seemingly leather-bound menus on the counter. Menus, tuxedos. Then the worst news of all.
“Sorry sir,” said a waitress. “We close every day at 3.”
Head hung down, I left. A whole summer of anticipation dashed. I live in a tourist town. This is a tourist trap now. As I am not a tourist, I am afraid my old coffee shop will remain as dead to me as it was the day the lights went off.
Curses! Foiled again!
Sometimes change and I are the most bitter of enemies.
