“How is this guy still in business?” Touring around the downtown east side with Ainsley yesterday, we came upon this odd little storefront. Dusty and dirty, it held a selection of Italian goods. He wanted to go in to ask about mustard oil but hit a roadblock when we realised you had to ring a bell to be admitted. Hey, it was east Hastings, what do you expect? Inside, the store was full of Italian groceries, boxes piled skyward and just random stuff everywhere. Buckets of herbs, dried pastas and sauces, all looking a bit, uh, vintage? However, while I wouldn’t want to normally eat food from here, I’d be happy to hide out from a zombie apocalypse. You could probably last forever and zombies don’t know how to ring a bell.
I like how it looks like someone stuck up a few notices about twenty years ago and they’ve remained till now. One said, Parking for Italians only.
I’m posting about this because it was a curious place. Very large inside and my inner businesswoman immediately began wondering about square footage, cost of rents, utilities and taxes. (My mother is a small business owner, I was raised to know how much running a business costs). So I wondered how on earth this guy could afford to stay open? Ainsley bought two bags of herbs, so we did our bit for the local economy. The proprietor didn’t seem too fussed about upselling or customer service, so we let ourselves out.