After announcing that I was closing the store… this is what the customers had to say:

“every time *I* find a store like this, it closes… it never fails”

“Why can’t you HOLD my item and then I’ll pick it up when then sale starts?”

“How are you EVER going to get rid of ALL this stuff? Ugh, I would hate to be you”

Screeching baby…

“What are you going to DO on the east coast??? What a terrible place? Are you happy to be going?”

“You sold me a sprung cabinet!” (I still don’t know what that means)

“My husband said I couldn’t have this cabinet, I want a refund (it’s the largest cabinet we have)”

“This dresser smells! I can’t stop sneezing! I want to return it!”

“I guess you didn’t do very well in this location, I didn’t think you would”

“I was relying on YOUR foot traffic for MY business!” Says the woman who just opened a gift store up the street. “Will you give me your mailing list? Seeing as you are leaving and I’m just starting and all…”

“I couldn’t get your attention last week and I wanted THAT shelf! And YOU sold it!!”

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My first 50 answers were sweet, sincere and true about moving… now, this is what I’m going with… I love the reactions I get…

“I’m starting a gator farm! I love alligators!”
“Gator wresting”
“Babies. I’m making babies.”

You know, we ARE moving to the deep south and it is backwoods, redneck and people are just lurking in the bushes with shotguns, chewing on possum.

I’ve told the story of moving about 200 times. Bah.

More to write later… but need to go… I can attest, women in a sale… worse than vampire piranhas.
(you know, because now they want blood twice as bad… yeah… I’m awesome)