One of the things I loved about living in my apartment was that we had an Extra, a local convenience store chain, a half-block away. They accepted my torn peso bills, unlike the other Extra two blocks away. And they had Bud Light. (Kinda nice when you’re feeling homesick.)
Then, last week, Crayton and I were out walking and we noticed it was closed. A sign taped to the door said they were doing inventory. Okay, no biggie.
But then, a few days later, we saw this. Cardboard and newspapers taped in the windows. The sign, gone. For some reason the inventory sign remained, though.
I’m so confused. Usually when Mexican businesses close, the government puts giant “CLAUSURADO” stickers all over the building, like campaign propaganda or something. No clausurado stickers here, but with newspapers in the window, I’m guessing they’re closed for good? It’s been like this for more than a week now.
Since apparently no one is going tell the neighborhood residents the truth (although, now that I think about it, the newstand guy who sits in front of the store might know something), my theory — completely void of facts, but let’s call it a hunch — is that the other Extra, the meanies who don’t take torn peso bills, shut ’em down. They were like: “Look at you. The nice Extra. The one with actually helpful staff. Nope, you can’t make it in this world. Goodbye.”
Or maybe Modelo, who owns Extra, decided that they couldn’t justify the store’s existence with another Extra so close by. (That one’s in front of the American Embassy, where there’s always lots of traffic.) Plus there’s an Oxxo — the most popular Mexican convenience store, where you can buy cell phones and detergent and lots of other wonderful things — only three blocks the other way. Closing in on Extra like a hungry lion.
Now that I think about it, our lonely, cardboard-taped little Extra should never have survived this long. It was doomed from the start.
But what about us poor souls who only want to walk a half-block for some mineral water?