brick and mortar (a tale of small business start to end)

It all began with a box of garage sale finds, some pretty teacups and such my mother found for my new apartment. The teacups were peach with a pretty opalescent luster. They weren't expensive, but to me they were gold. To me they were the start of a new beginning in my very first adult apartment. My mother was thrilled and I'll never forget her excitement. Unfortunately she was less thrilled when the boyfriend of that moment moved in, but that's another story. To this day I still have the teacups, the boyfriend long gone to jail or wherever he belonged. Such began my love with vintage. It was at that moment gazing upon my treasures, seeing my mom's excitement that I began to hate anything new and fell in love with all things old. Years of junking and a part-time job in a little antique store lead me to my first retail space and my fate was sealed. How does one cram almost 20 years in business into a few paragraphs? My career in this business feels as ancient as the hills. That first feeling when the lease is signed, key in hand, and the world your oyster. At first I worked full-time waiting tables and part-time at my true calling. I was always hesitant to let go of my stable employment and the safety net of financial comfort it gave me. My first space was a shared space, an absentee "partner" if you will who would come and go leaving boxes of dishes or expensive antiques for me to display. I would open the shop only to have that creepy feeling that someone was in my space. My decision to move stemmed from a need to be on my own, no creepy silent partners or ugly Mission furniture left for me to tend to. The next space though close to the first felt miles away from that tiny spot. This new location was mine all mine. I had huge windows to display my wares and boy did I! A background in art was finally put to good use as I transformed those windows week after week to showcase my old junk. The more effort I put into my business, the more I resented working another job. Slowly as the years went by, I cut back on evenings at the restaurant in order to pursue my destiny(yes that's a bit dramatic, but then so am I). I worked like a dog to gain personal and financial success. I built up a solid loyal customer base. I added more hours, an employee or two. During the holidays I would stay until all hours of the night just to make sure everything was beautiful and perfect. As the years went by I began to notice though I had achieved personal success, I had yet to find that brass ring. Part of the problem was my location. Though cheap, it came with a big price, a changing neighborhood. The street had become a joke of sorts with most of the other antique shops closing due to declining business and the sort of "customer" that became the norm. Trying to still make a go of it, I would have days with no business and when someone did finally wander in, it was usually the sort of medicated, shuffling, muttering types looking for a captive audience. In tears, I knew it was time for the next change. Once my decision was made, my new final location happened within 24 hours of my decision to leave. Luck was on my side and the new improved space came with lots of fresh traffic, wonderful neighbors and finally that sense of community and family so important to small business. I was home. My old Italian barber neighbors immediately took me under their wing and they became my friends and confidantes for ten years until their untimely death not long ago. The copy shop owner and his kids became like extended family, raising our boys in our shops and standing around shooting the shit. My new customers came with their stories, their dogs, their children I've watched grow into teenagers. They became my life support. My shop became not just a way to earn a living, but a kind of meeting place. Under that roof we discussed politics, religion, love, family, furniture, daily conversations to feed your soul if the mood fit. Over the years I added an ever changing stock of rotating inventory, remodeled, reinvented, changed the name, started doing more shows to boost my image, get my name out there. After one particularly disappointing show I fell into a slight depression, mid- life crisis I guess. I spent months soul searching, trying to figure out just where I was going with all this. After running a fast track for so long and being consumed by my calling, I lost interest. Dried up and got disgusted. My job had become just that, a job. Economic crisis had spurned a new way to shop retail. Today's young customers are thriftier, pickier, bending to social media to fit in, be part of something big. Trending events to boost our city's economy and produce a young generation of "makers", "creatives", and yes, vintage dealers. I was now the dinosaur tethered to a $1000 a month rent not to mention utilities and inventory. On top of that I was trying to help maintain household expenses. By the end of the day there was nothing left for me. All my hard earned money eaten up by expenses and groceries. Eighteen years I ran that hamster wheel, always running to catch up, get ahead. My store never did bad business, it always came through when most needed, but at this age, I'm done struggling for my art. I am ready to be free of financial burden. I want to travel, give in to this wanderlust that has hounded me my entire life. Most importantly I want to breathe, be with my family, reboot and recharge. The shop has long since served its purpose. It gave me a sense of satisfaction and reward. I raised my son there in order to forego expensive day care, albeit at the cost of my sanity a few times yet still with fond memories. It helped our income. The relationships I garnered and nurtured over the years never to be forgot. So,once again, I'm taking that leap, jumping off that proverbial cliff. At the end of January my little shop that meant so much for so many years will be closed. I am sad to lose my community. Brick and mortars are so important to a city's survival yet it is a changing world and I have to once again change with it. It's time to go where the crowds are rather than wait for the crowd to find me. Sad, yes, but so excited for a newer more free future, a mobile future. A way to travel and be with my family and sell my old junk. So, my dear customers, never fear. This is not a good-bye, this is a big fat HELLO to a big fat new adventure. I have no idea what the future holds, but isn't that part of the fun? My eyes are open and I'm jumping...goodnight world.