It's kinda cute how anxious The Man has gotten about money (i.e., how to get some) since my unemployment money has run out. He spent almost all his time last week running around to employment agencies and searching for jobs online, updating his resume, networking, pacing around muttering in dollar signs... you know. At this point, the best we can come up with is a 6-month stint in Antarctica, and it's looking pretty good.
On Saturday, after an outing with Captain Kid, he informed me that a particular bookstore (outlet of obscure old and used stuff) is going out of business. Unless, that is, they can find a buyer. Or a renter, even. My eyebrows shot up. "Rent? How much?" Well, he hadn't asked, so despite an itchy feeling we both had, we let it go. Yesterday, he came home from another outing. Local game/book shop is selling out. Know anyone who wants to buy it? I could just see the idea burning in his eyes. "How much do they want for it?" I asked casually, knowing there's no way on this earth we could scrape it up, whatever it is. Again, no idea.
So today, he came home after a really long outing and without any preliminaries said, "Rent: $1800 a month. Game store: 100 grand." And there was this pause. "They'll never get it," I said. "I've always wanted to run a game store," he said as if I didn't know. "No one would lend us 1 grand, let alone 100," said Henry Morgan, the realist. "You never know until you try!" my husband's optimistic side absolutely roared. Sigh. "All right. I think we have a better chance of making rent, though..."
Thus began a short discussion of the market options. I don't think it's entirely coincidental that these things came about right now. I think it's the fault of the New Mall. ;-) No, seriously, any thoughts and advice are welcome.