There’s
a Greek restaurant nearby.
Well,
that’s not right. There was a Greek restaurant nearby. Was. It
closed a few weeks ago.
If
I’m being honest, I’m not going to miss it all that much. If I’m
being very honest, I don’t think the community is going to miss
it all that much.
Apparently,
it was sold by the original owners before I moved into the area,
and many locals feel as if the quality dropped off significantly
after the sale. I’ve always thought it was ok, and enjoyed heading
over once every two or three months to answer a craving for a
gyro. The reality, however, was that on every visit I made the
restaurant was empty. Literally. The last three visits I made,
I can vividly recall there being someone sitting at a table inside
just once. I don’t remember anyone else coming in for takeout
as I waited for my order. The announced closing was not a surprise.
That
admission made, I can’t help but feel sorry for the ownership
and staff, and sorry for my neighborhood. It’s a sad thing when
something unique and locally owned closes, and I am under the
impression this establishment could use both descriptions. In
an area where there is an abundance of fabulous Cuban and Thai
food, there is not a lot of Greek cuisine nearby.
Look,
supply and demand, returning customers coming back with fresh
orders in waves, there are certain realities about business. If
you don’t have customers, more often than not there is a reason
you are closing your doors. And that reason can be because you
aren’t doing enough to remain open. Still, I find it a bit sad
when an area loses something that it had to offer residents and
visitors.
How
old are you? Do you still have connections of some kind with the
area where you grew up?
Depending
on your answers to those questions, we may need to switch from
understanding where we’re about to go to imagining where we’re
about to go. But staying with it should be easy enough.
I
feel comfortable guaranteeing that more than a handful of places
you’ve visited over the years have permanently closed their doors
and gone out of business. Some of them have been very special
to you. A few of them are associated with brilliantly important
memories.
If
you’ve moved away from your hometown, and still go back to visit
on occasion, you may have a list of musts for every trip. Places
where you go to take in the scenery, and places where you return
to enjoy special treats.
In
the state of Rhode Island, there are arguments about the best
hot weiners and clam cakes. (I’m spelling weiners that way as
a tip of a cap to the legendary Wein-O-Rama, which recently finished
a superb run of 62-years when the owners retired.) People are
passionate about not only their preferences of who serves the
best items, but just as fiercely support those locations whenever
they can.
It’s
that combination… a place on the must list of residents combined
with a loyal base of customers… providing the reasons why I’m
not having trouble with the local restaurant that recently closed
and forced me to look elsewhere when the craving for a gyro strikes.
If you’re a business and have no customers, the chances are very
strong you won’t be operating for long.
Still,
there’ a face to the landscape of the places we call home. Features
and details, recognizable to regulars as significant and part
of what makes that shopping plaza, that road, that neighborhood,
that city or town special. They may be so common and woven into
the identity that we overlook them on occasion when they’re there.
But for a few, we’ll miss them when they’re gone.