I’ve been missing my old brick & mortar storefront. Like childbirth, I only remember the good moments. The memories of enthusiastic customers, record sales days, and a sense of being part of the local community. The pain of a day with no sales, difficult customers, and mounting stacks of bills has been forgotten.
Like mothers who share childbirth stories, antique & junk sellers now share “my-old-store” stories. Community folklore was embellished at the counters of our once often-visited storefronts. Who bought what, where and for how much. Who kicked who out of their store. Which pool at the back of the auction hall bought the blue cupboard? Was the item a steal or a fair price? Why did “so and so”accept such a low price for that household? Is that a forged signature on the oil painting? Wasn’t our store the best in town. Remember.....
The community stories at the counter gradually changed to ebay success stories. And that was that.
I feel a similar nostalgia for my old store as I do for the years when my children were young. I'm happy to remember and not relive. The days were special then, but they are equally as special now. My store is now open 24/7 with no overhead, and I can come and go as I please. But, I miss my friends. My children still love me.
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