Yesterday saw the two week mark from the day we first got keys to the site where we are building The Laboratory. The two weeks of demolition, painting, discovery, and generally hard work have been a rewarding time of fatigue and transformation. Two days ago we finished one of the biggest steps: pulling up the plywood flooring our predecessors had laid down atop the carpet. This process revealed some termite damage, but we had been told they were long gone.
Yesterday morning it was obvious that they were still with us. I don't know what business termites have with carpeting on top of cement; their food source labyrinth of 2×4s and plywood planks had been discharged from the building at much effort. But there they were again. Little did we realize the evil that they brought with them. Yesterday's efforts were fraught with repetition, each task forcing a reassessment and repeat after some step came unhinged. Toilet tanks were exchanged, then switched back again to work a little worse than they had before. A light switch replacement became a painful lesson in wire gauges and switch manufacturers' differing tastes. A bathroom tissue dispenser replacement evolved into a project of unimaginable difficulty. A quarter round molding piece required four coats of paint to present any semblance of uniformity. It seemed all of our steadfast progress was being paid for in the form of innumerable annoyances which should have been quick fixes.
There was, however, one thing that went supremely well.
UPS showed up with our first shipment of guitars. Glorious Michael Kelly solid body electric guitars, F-Hole hybrids that can wail like an S.G. or whisper like a fine acoustic with a pro piezo, Traben basses with sleek lines and massive, sustain loving bridges. As each box came open there was a chorus of oos and ahs. I would gladly own any one of these pieces. It was maybe the most important job of the day: stocking our store with a host of guitars that we ourselves would take to a gig and thoroughly enjoy playing. This is exactly the kind of thing we want for our customers.
At day's end we secured a cotton curtain to finish the space between our acoustic guitar room and the higher ceiling of the main sales floor. It looked great. After midnight, as Mark was alone in the store, blowing off steam on a Michael Kelly axe, the curtain plummeted to the floor. Today's another day, and that curtain will learn to enjoy clinging to the ceiling this time!
No comments:
Post a Comment