29.12.2006
DREAM COME TRUE?
DREAM COME TRUE?
In August my employer informed me that the trial on whether there was a need for a third person, who's only job was the paper-work in the Partasala was over.
In his opinion it was clear that the turnover;
the number of customers versus the amount of money that they paid for the auto parts wasn't just enough to hold a staff of three.
Thus I had to take my sack and say good-bye.
Instead of aiming my abilities just at house-keeping I began the quest of finding me a convenient house accommodation for the commission-sale which I was determant to introduce to my fellow citizens.
It was my belief that the responses to my two articles in late spring were so positive, that I wouldn't be jeopardizing anything by going ahead with my plan.
I started looking for lodgings that might be for rent and were both convenient and on the ground floor bearing in mind that the transport had to be easy.
Because my intended comission-sale would be an innovation in my hometown I didn't want to take any risks with great investments.
My patron Mr. BG found my idea quite promising and advised me to take a loan in a bank, enabling me to buy various used things from people on low prices and selling it on higher prices, but being the coward that I am I did not dare risk anything.
But I visited the Sparisjodur (savings-bank) with other things in mind, being aware of the fact that the town's financial institutions had become the owners of many houses, because of their former owners' unpaid debts.
Sparisjodurinn in Keflavik was by far the largest money-institution and therefore I made an appointment with the manager.
He showed me varius options for the firm I had in mind and I had become very optimistic that we might come to an agreement, until I heard the enormous rent I'd had to pay.
When I'd parted with the manager and returned out on the Tjarnargata (pondstreet) with my high hopes lying scattered in my heart I happened to turn my head to the left towards the three storey house which is located on Hafnargata, the main street of Keflavik lying by the sea.
On the ground-floor there is a store where there are various household appliances (and toys) to be found, called Stapafell named after a small mountain on the peninsula which is by the way dissappearing quite rapidly being the main source for our streets and buildings.
The first and second floor were empty at the moment and when I saw those empty windows staring at me I happen-ed to get one of those crazy ideas of mine.
-Perhaps Hakon in Stapafell will be willing to rent me an accommodation?
My expectations had deminished when I'd eventually managed to locate him, this busy businessman (who´s deceased since) that he was and then we started one of the most important conversations I'd ever had in my life in his tiny private room where he's able to overlook his store being two meters above the normal floor.
In his private facility he'd created, he was able to take a rest between his runnings between this store where we're at the moment and his second one across the street where he sold all kinds of things but mainly new auto parts.
I had also become aware of the fact that he never returned from lunch before two o'clock.
This I'd learned by experience, because when I had been selling the lottery tickets I used to visit every firm and company on Sudurnes.
When I'd tried to visit him just after one o'clock it didn't fail that I had been told that he was attending to his horses on Managrund (moonfield).
In the numerous occasions that I'd offered him to buy a ticket he'd only once did me the favour of purchasing a ticket and had told me that he never bought lottery, except when it was something related to horses, e.g. his horsemen-club Mani (moon).
But I'd never seized trying, bearing the weak hope in my heart, that the crow that sits still will starve, but the flying one lives.
I found the Man, where he was sitting at his small desk in the small room, or might we call it a watchman's tower and the desk was all covered with paper and bills, not forgetting the telephone, which is of course a MUST in the life of such an important man.
He returned my greeting with the aliverural-gesture he had been brought up with and vited me to take a seat on the tiny bench that was placed behind his office-chair.
As the true attendant of the Dale Carnegie's courses I began my part of our conversation by discussing various issues, like ecology and how heart-breaking I thought it was when people where throwing on the dumpsters many usable things, when they could have been used by others.
I suddenly became braver and more self-assured when I noticed in this great man´s look, that apparently I'd touched a sensitive nerve in his heart, something related to man´s treatment of the treasures of NATURE.
When I mentioned my dream of starting a commission sale on used things, but needed the convenient accommodation I discovered that he was willing to go to any length to assist me fulfilling my dream.
Hakon did not waste a minute, but immediately took me on a short journey just to show me an accommodation in a house he owned a short while from his office-building in the same street, no. 37.
We walked through the tunnell that goes through this four-storey building of his and came out in the back.
In the cellar there's a large garrage, where Stapafell's cars are kept overnight, but to my surprise he informed me that he'd be willing to sacrifice the space for my eco-friendly store.
For a while I really did think seriously about this generous offer coming from this great man, but decided to refuse on the grounds of the spot's isolation from the town's mainstreet, before mentioned.
Besides that I really did not like the closeness to my would-be neighbours.
A few meters from the garrage-door there stood a tiny cemented house, that was both quite old and really unfit for habitation to say the least.
Rumour said that various unfortunate men and dope-addicts were living in its cellar, but on the floor above them a mother and her son, both unfortunate and wide known in our town, whom I really did not like making too many visits to my store.
Ironically even though I'd made this decision, they did become very frequent visitors to my store, despite my rejection to this fine offer.
Especially after their house got burned down and was subsequently pushed into the sea by a bulldozer.
They became known throughout the entire country, when they'd been on a talk-show on television, the Channel-2, and complained about the small understanding that they were receiving from the town's authorities after the fire.
They informed me that the reason for their appearance on this famous talk-show was that Eirikur the host was a relative of them.
When I'd asked Hakon, whether he didn't have anything else to offer me we returned to no. 17, where he showed me the first floor above his toy-store.
The first floor was then a big open room or a hall, that hadn't yet been fully prepared for any use, just about weather-tight;
an elevator hadn't been installed, the entrance was very unattractive and the steps were unfinished.
The walls had been painted white, there were new doors and the ovens were warm.
But there wasn't any toilet on the floor and no runningwater, but in Hakon's opinion I could use the toilet down-stairs, if I had to or needed water in a bucket.
He told me that after a few adjustments I would be able to open my store and he'd hold the renting-prices very low.
I decided on the spot to except the offer,
for I realized that in this way I'd be able to keep the founding-expances as low as one could get, but what was most convenient was that running the store would keep me busy in the afternoon.
Deep down inside I bore the hope, that if my experiment would turn out to be a hit-project, later I might be able to move into a larger and more convenient lodging on the ground-floor.
Hakon having shown me another and more humane side of himself phoned for a carpenter who separated my part (one hundred square meters) from the rest of the floor, using transparent plastic that reached from the floor to the ceiling.
Then he gave me a can of paint and a roller, so I could paint the floor after having removed all junk and dust.
When I returned home everybody, even the dog and cat were asked to help me find a suitable name for my shop and after just a short while my eldest son came up with the name Gamalt og gott (good and old) which we all seemed to like.
Then I typed an introduction-article which I gave to the editor of the Vikur-frettir.
Once anew another period had begun in my life.