Burned, not tanned
Businesses come and go down here on the South End. Mostly go…. Folks figure they can just empty out the kids’ piggy bank or sell the old Chevy van that’s been up on blocks 10 years behind the shed and scrape up the cash to hang a shingle out on their new storefront. Something about working for other people makes em yearn for the entrepreneurial dream. They figure if they work for themselves, their new boss will treat them a whole lot better.
Starting a business, they suppose, is a snap. After all, this is a capitalist society and there’s all those consumers up on the North End clamoring for sales and services. Wanda opened up the El Sol Tanning Solarium last year. Now you know and I know the sun doesn’t shine much up on the cloud shrouded North End…. And so did Wanda, so she put out the CostCo neon OPEN sign in a little 700 square foot storefront rental up by the Plaza Market where storefronts are opening up faster than real estate offices can move in, something Wanda mighta shoulda oughta factored in when she developed her business plan that night between dinner and Wheel of Fortune.
She lasted about the time it takes to say melanoma. I don’t know what tanning beds go for used on CraigsList, but someday the antique value should be right up there with Ozone Generators from the 1920’s. Wanda did get a nice full body tan herself, better than the burn down at the bank, and now we got another FOR LEASE sign where the neon no longer says OPEN.
When I last chatted with Wanda, she was heartbroken her dream died before it even had a chance to blossom. ‘People must stay indoors and figure the TV will give them a tan,’ she lamented. I said they go to Palm Springs or Albuquerque for the sun, not some coffin with full spectrum artificial lighting. Wanda was in full denial. More advertising maybe. A location closer to town. One free tanning session for every ten. Now her savings were gone. ‘I don’t want to go back to driving that school bus again,’ she practically sobbed. In the land of capitalist dreams where Bill Gates whispers sweet somethings in every aspiring entrepreneur’s ear, failure is hard to accept. Wanda will be fine. She’ll dust herself off, take stock and probably launch into the next hot market. DVD rentals or an umbrella shop. Dreams don’t really die down here on the South End, they just recycle. Worst case, she can do like most of the rest of us small businesspeople and become a working artist. Low pay but huge self esteem.
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