"Tales of a Scorched Coffee Pot"

A1

Everything was cool up until the summer that Liberty Avenue closed. More specifically the morning where it first occurred to many of them that maybe this company was no longer on the upswing. Their acting owner has just called a meeting, to announce the shuttering of their original location, which somehow endured in this town, in a beleaguered, not exactly great spot, from the late 1970s up until now. And also, oh yeah, that their president, Duane Hatley, who had received the news earlier than his employees, had just chosen to tender his resignation as well.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” Duane told said acting owner, Rob Drake, a quote which has somehow already become common knowledge, and is basically disputed by no one, not even by the targeted individual himself – that it was said, anyway, though Rob would presumably disagree with its sentiment.

But they are a relatively strong cast of seasoned veterans, those assembled in this conference room, and nobody immediately freaks out. Even Liberty’s looming extinction, in fairness, isn’t exactly a news flash, although everyone had remained optimistic it might weather the storm. And meanwhile they have three other locations, all of which are performing somewhere in the range of fair to strong, their tiny chain has endured setbacks before. They will be okay.