My first shock came about a year ago, when my habitual Starbucks on very busy Hollywood Road suddenly disappeared overnight. The next morning the premises had been cleared, all furnishings removed, and a new sign was placed on the construction boards announcing that a (yuppie) bar would be opening within the week. Several of us stood on the sidewalk scratching our heads and wondering where the closest caffeine fix could be found!
Last week I decided to check out Flow, a used book store around the corner from the aforementioned defunct Starbucks. I regularly pop in to see if I can pick up a cheap copy of the books we are reading in our book club. There was a handwritten sign plastered on the door directing us to the new address on Hollywood Road. Alas, number 29 Hollywood Road does not exist, but I found them at 27! The original store was crowded and small, but the new place is even smaller - perhaps 10'x10'. Not for agoraphobics. I wondered where all of their books had gone.
A few days later, Joan alerted me to the fact that there were thousands of books sitting on the sidewalk across the road from the old store. Too bad I didn't have my camera with me (I have a very basic phone that doesn't take pictures) - by the time I arrived on the scene, there were three huge metal crates filled with used books, cds, and dvds. Four workers, supervised by a very mean woman, were emptying bags and bags of books into the crates. I salvaged a few gems, included a hardcover copy of The Hong Kong Story. The boss-lady kept yelling at us as we helped ourselves to the soon-to-be-recycled piles (or is that wishful thinking?).
Later that afternoon, I returned with my camera, hoping to capture the workers and the onlookers. However, the crates had been removed, and the sidewalk was clear. There were still hundreds of bags waiting to be discarded, so I unzipped a few and pocketed a couple of mysteries. Speaking of these plaid bags, they are usually called amah bags, because Filipina domestic helpers use them (especially when sending stuff back to the Philippines). Amah is a Chinese word for maid/nanny.
Jeff decided to get his hair cut the other day. He usually goes to A Salon a few doors west of our building. The shop was closed, and there were workmen inside. We took it for granted that A Salon was no more. What a surprise to see it reopened a couple of days later, with several coats of new paint and the same old fashioned barber chairs intact.
We thought that HMF furniture was gone for good. The shop's location was not in a prime spot - it was tucked in beside the escalators, in a dark passage north of Caine Road. The shop closed a few months ago, and the space has not been rented. On Sunday we were moseying along Wellington Street in Central and there was the new incarnation of HMF. I'm not sure if it will be any more successful in its new address, since it is surrounded by small printing shops and hardware stores. An odd place to park an upscale furniture store.
We're still waiting for the real estate bubble to burst, but so far there are no indications that it will.
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