YOU ALL CAN STOP CALLING ME BUGSY NOW. ROBERT IS MY NAME. "BUGSY" DIES WITH THE PIZZA LOUNGE. R.I.P.

Ubruptly, like the rug being pulled out from under you. That is how Chris and Arlene sold out the pizza lounge.
I check my messages Monday morning. Holly on the message:
"It's over. The Pizza Lounge is closed. I need to have you keep my record player and cds over at Feed till I can get them...."
I walked over for work at Feed on Monday the 17th of April, and the windows of The Pizza Lounge were papered over. A dreadful feeling in my stomach. I begin working, an ache in my heart as I realize that noone got to say goodbye to their beloved Pizza Lounge.
Finally Arlene comes into the restaurant. She approaches the counter.

"I thought that if his license got approved, he wouldn't be moving in until May 1st." I say.

"Oh, well he got it early, so they came and started today."

Oh.

"I have to get the record player, the 78's and all of the cds from the jukebox." I say, ice seeping in to my voice.

"We can do that. Oh, I just talked to the new owner Chris and he's not having live entertainment there anymore because he doesn't have a license for it, and doesn't want to get fined for having it."

She just found this out, of course. Sure. My blood runs cold as I follow Arlene over to what's left of the bar I'd called my hang.
My little spot light has been removed from the ceiling.
I ask the new Chris where it is.

"Oh, yeah," he says, looking around vaguely, "I'll have to get that to you later,"

Uh-huh.

I gather the 78's and record player and notice that walls are already being ripped apart. There is no liquor on the bar. I walk out and carry the record player and records over to Feed. I return and begin the painful process of removing the CDs from the box. Arlene helps me hurriedly.

"You should keep in touch, Bugsy. Let me know about any new CD's or anything..." Arlene says as we sort.

My mind is numb with shock at what is going on around me.

"Yeah, I'll have to get your number before you leave today." I say coldly.

After 2 years of playing for her, this is it. This is the thanks we all get.
I laugh.

The next day, today, at work at Feed again, the sounds of demolition from within the Pizza Lounge filled my heart with a dull throbbing sorrow, each wall being wrenched apart an audible symbol of my soul weeping at the ignominious and uncelebrated death of a landmark.

Rest in Peace.

Goodbye, Pizza Lounge.

We'll all miss you.