It wasn't long after Dr. Biggles' review of Lava Rock Supreme that the restaurant closed.
So began its annoying afterlife.
There comes a time in a man's life when he's retired but still wants a place to go every day. The restaurant closed, but Mr Lava Rock continued to punch in. His one car in his vast parking lot let all of the neighbors know his whereabouts. I often imagined him in the bar, sitting in a recliner, adjusting the rabbit ears to watch Fox News.
The city made him an offer for his property, as it was now blighted, his abandoned Albertsons supermarket offering a lovely tablet for graffiti. Via his nephew, the family mouthpiece, he asked for greater sums of money than the city was able to pay.
The economy crashed. The car stopped parking in the lot. Discarded sofas started appearing on the sidewalk near the dead Albertsons.
Thanks, Mr. Lava Rock and Nephew! This is your legacy.
Signs of hope appeared last week. A Grocery Outlet sign appeared on the abandoned Albertsons.
And today the claw came to bite Lava Rock Supreme down to the ground. I saw it first on Facebook. Sick though I am, I jumped into my car and sped over to talk to the man with the claw. I have always wanted the decorations that festoon the outside of the building. This was the moment to ask for it.
Fingers crossed. Anything that survives the wall coming down tomorrow I can have. He has my phone number, and will call to let me know.
No comments:
Post a Comment