the last days of the smoke shop
Jun. 16th, 2014 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingMr. Speakerphone and the landlords decided that there was no sense doing an expensive repair job on an air conditioner that is going to be torn out altogether in July, and since the smoke shop is unbearable in the summer without air conditioning... we are closing on Saturday the 21st. This is about two weeks earlier than planned, but so it goes.
This week will be for packing up the store, more or less. Today Melodrama and Boss Lady started by not putting up the weekly magazine shipment. They just checked the totes in, broke the big plastic seals, replaced them with our little plastic tote closing tags, and wrote up the exact same set of totes as a return. Tomorrow we will take down all the remaining magazines from the racks and pack them up the same way. (I am not clear whether the racks themselves will be picked up Tuesday or a later day.)
In the afternoon, Melodrama wrote up all our candles and candle-related products so Boss Lady could write an official transfer receipt, and I packed them up for shipment to our sister store down in Elmira. (That was six totes altogether.)
Boss Lady says we'll probably close at 5pm Thursday-Saturday; she has not yet decided about Tuesday and Wednesday. After she closes on Friday, we're all going to get cocktails at Viva Tacqueria, which is just around the corner. Saturday will be mostly her and me tidying up the last remnants, doing a bunch of paperwork, and bundling up the week's newspapers.
I have agreed to be on call next week for any other post-closing tasks -- like putting out the trash and recycling Monday night, or dealing with the people who will come remove the lottery terminal, or the ATM, or the remaining drinks coolers, or other tasks of that nature. But basically when Boss Lady and I leave on Saturday, that's it. Lights out. We're done.
...
It's a strange and vertiginous feeling. Kind of like stepping off a cliff after slogging your way up an interminable mountain, and not being sure you remember how to fly.
But I think it will be okay.
This week will be for packing up the store, more or less. Today Melodrama and Boss Lady started by not putting up the weekly magazine shipment. They just checked the totes in, broke the big plastic seals, replaced them with our little plastic tote closing tags, and wrote up the exact same set of totes as a return. Tomorrow we will take down all the remaining magazines from the racks and pack them up the same way. (I am not clear whether the racks themselves will be picked up Tuesday or a later day.)
In the afternoon, Melodrama wrote up all our candles and candle-related products so Boss Lady could write an official transfer receipt, and I packed them up for shipment to our sister store down in Elmira. (That was six totes altogether.)
Boss Lady says we'll probably close at 5pm Thursday-Saturday; she has not yet decided about Tuesday and Wednesday. After she closes on Friday, we're all going to get cocktails at Viva Tacqueria, which is just around the corner. Saturday will be mostly her and me tidying up the last remnants, doing a bunch of paperwork, and bundling up the week's newspapers.
I have agreed to be on call next week for any other post-closing tasks -- like putting out the trash and recycling Monday night, or dealing with the people who will come remove the lottery terminal, or the ATM, or the remaining drinks coolers, or other tasks of that nature. But basically when Boss Lady and I leave on Saturday, that's it. Lights out. We're done.
...
It's a strange and vertiginous feeling. Kind of like stepping off a cliff after slogging your way up an interminable mountain, and not being sure you remember how to fly.
But I think it will be okay.
