Discuss.

Having survived Easter and yet another Chocolate Festival, we have a moment or two to breathe and think and appreciate the new season upon us. Easter always seems to be a beginning of some sort though I know not of what. But it’s always the feeling in the air. At least to me. How apropos then that we have finally, at long last, taken over the adjacent space and started renovations at the shop. Clearly a new chapter. A new ride. Add to that, we are also moving house. As you do at a time like this. But if you’re in the midst of anxiety, why not just pile it on?

So with all things real estate and planning swirling around, it gets me thinking: where does that sofa go, what about that table, do we have enough room at the shop for that set of shelves and so on. Imagine taking all your possessions and having them swept up in a tornado only to land in some indeterminate place. I have callouses from using the measuring tape every second of every day. Still, it’s a comfortable, familiar feeling from my architect days, a frame of mind usually mixed with one part boring analysis with one part creative thinking with a soupcon of design genius (one can only hope). From the beginning to the middle to the end of a project, the calculator is always out adding up square footage and costs per square foot (PSF) to revenue PSF to the square footage required for storing grandma’s china to just how big a chiller we can wedge into the new shop kitchen. When we did a presentation in Birmingham recently, David eyed up a monster of a chiller about the size of a stacked semi. (OD: it was super fantastic!) I’m here to tell you, alas, we’re off by a few inches and we won’t be able to fit that one in. Oh well. I certainly tried my super best. But the numbers don’t lie.

As we ponder what we’d like to do with the new space, how to finish it and what all is needed, the numbers spin around a bit like on a slot machine. It makes for bleary eyes I can assure you. Last week I walked into the shop only to find a rather large pram parked front and center just inside the door. Typically I’ll pause and check the passenger and be sure to tell the parents/minders that theirs is, without doubt, the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen. Such a darling. However, that day, the slots spun out of control. Immediately my head went into hyper-PSF mode. I kept my mouth shut but couldn’t get the thought out of my head. I tried taking off my business hat but the damn thing wouldn’t budge and all I could do/can do is multiply again and again and again just how big prams are and what the impact to the shop has been and will be. Has anyone noticed they are rapidly approaching the size of a small Range Rover? And that’s just the pram, not the attachments let alone various and sundry bags hanging off this that and the other hook. That got me thinking of what someone’s reaction might be if I stopped over for a cuppa and brought along my own chair. Simply walked in theirs, a kiss on each cheek and then plopped my Stratolounger down in the middle of the living room, kicked out the foot rest and tucked right on in. Now I’m a bit of a messy guest, so no doubt crumbs and dribbles would fly hither and yon but hey, I gotta get going and I’ll just take my chair and leave the rest behind. What with a blog to write and deadlines to meet, time is of the essence. Surely they’d understand. Surely I can’t possibly take the time to care. Too busy. Way too busy. Too too too too too busy. Busy busy.

But I digress.

And I try to focus on the numbers. Sometimes they take me to my happy place. I just keep on crunching and crunching them and all will be right in the world. So I decide to get some actual facts and do a little of that boring analysis. As it happens, my bugaboo occupies the same space allotted for two people. In point of fact, a pram measures 85cm x 45cm x 32cm or 35” x 18” x 12”. In restaurant planning terms, those dimensions are precisely the same for two adults sitting side-by-side at a table. Let’s take one example, shall we, of two prams parked inside a shop. Let’s call it a café. Or a restaurant. Just for kicks. Those parked prams represent a table of four which is not generating any income. Revenue PSF is ZERO. Sometimes Revenue PSF < ZERO when, for example, pram passengers require heated water (not too hot, not too cold) for feeding or, worse, when one or two bodily functions may require staff assistance. Not something a shop owner, any shop owner of any sort, would want to hear. Going in to a shop fit-out the general rule of thumb is to maximize display/merchandising/seating in order to , get this, maximize profits which (get this again) actually pay the bills and (get this last bit) lead to growth. But when you’re looking at a Stratolounger parked in the middle of your living room, you really start to wonder if it goes with your décor. Comfy though they can be, does your chair really require cup holders? Mind you, this doesn’t even take into consideration any potential health and safety issues. God forbid someone, be they staff or guests, trip over a pram jam in the middle of the lane. Or spill something hot whilst trying to navigate around unsupervised toddler siblings. Both such subjective experiences hence I thought I’d focus on my happy numbers instead. They tend to be very objective.

As with any real estate matter, one can only hope for good and thoughtful neighbours. One who understands how their lifestyle and/or business logistics may or may not impact the goings on around them. If I were to sling the lever back to trigger the foot rest and mistakenly knock over the urn with Granny, I’d certainly like to think I’d apologize. At the very least I’d ask for the Dustbuster and lend a helping hand.