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Ooh look! I got pictures now.

Most of my job is contructive work: putting up signs for new businesses or updating some old stuff with a fresh coat of paint. But on Monday, I went out to do a sign take-down job. Take down jobs don't come often, and the ones I've done before have just been small window graphics. This one was due to a store closing at Westroads Mall. The name of the store didn't ring any bells, but as I headed up the escalator, I was reminded of what was: Attic Salt.

What is that

Attic Salt was one of those small mall boutiques that was actually pretty cool. It had a variety of pop culture merchandise, plushies, stationary, T-shirts, etc. To me, it had good balance. It felt like I could find something for each of my friends there. It was, 2 years ago, where I bought Adeline a Menstruation Crustacean, one of those stuffed animals that you can throw in the microwave to warm up. It does its job pretty well.

Ok so what tho

Well the thing is, I'm not sure. There was someting melancholic about that whole experience: walking up to the store, figuring out how to take down the signage, bearing the freezing cold through the parking lot. We left visible glue marks on the side of the store, about 15 feet off the ground. We spent half an hour trying to scrape it with a spatula, but the glue wouldn't budge. I'm not sure who is going to take care of it, and I assume no one will for a long time.

conclusion

Taking the signage from a storefront is like taking away its mark, its "X was here". I was an active participant in that, prying off letters and leaving glue scars. Now it's like it was never there. The only true evidence of its existence, to me, being that of a stuffed lobster I warm up once a month.