"When Are You Guys Gonna Open?"

"Why am I getting these scathing emails from Kate?" Chris asked me on the phone.  He had finally returned one of our calls.

"We've been trying to get a hold of you for a while now," I explained.   "What's going on?  Are we close to getting these plans stamped or what?"

"These things take time, Zach.  I make edits, then I have people run them down there- then they send them back to me with notes.  It's a whole process," Chris said.

"I get that, but it's been six months since we passed health.  You said we'd be breaking ground by the new year.  He we are, damn near April & we're still paying rent with a bunch of expensive equipment just sitting up at there collecting dust!" I yelled.  Kate & I felt like he'd been giving us the runaround & we couldn't get any solid answers of of him.

"Well, sending me emails talking smack won't get this done any faster.  Just be patient.  You guys are still working markets, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"There you go.  Some people don't have that luxury," he said.  "We'll get there.  Now, there is something you can do to help.  I need you to get some measurements for me."

The next day I went behind the building with a tape measure & texted him the dimensions to the alley.  We had to put in a grease trap & for that we had to install piping to tie into the sewer line.  

Anytime he texted me with questions I responded as soon as I could.  Kate's strongly worded email came after we dealt with radio-silence on his end for more than two weeks.  At least now we knew how to make enough noise to conjure up a response out of him.

Chris did start giving us more updates, about one or two texts every week or so.  It was a vast improvement from before, but still our shop just sat there empty & dark, a sad ghost town haunted by appliances still covered by plastic & cardboard.

And, every time we set up at least one person would ask us, "When are you guys gonna open?"