When My Fucking Father got done with doing his shit at the courthouse (and nagging at me to buy a new pair of shoes -- I'm wearing new ones I was saving so he can finally SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT!!!), I took him back to The Store. Wow. Another opportunity to see The Store.
I was surprised to see their minivan there. I thought Mother had to stay home to let the contractor in (I was going to take My Fucking Father home to he can take the van to The Store), but I guess he said he wouldn't come in. I also noticed there was another vehicle in the parking lot and a man going into the back door.
My Fucking Father invited me in; don't know why, maybe he noticed I was sentimental about The Store. Initially I thought against it; it was a bit past 10:30 at the time and I told the 'Rents I had to be "at work" by 11. But after he went inside I thought about it. Seriously, like I've written before, he might know that I'm lying about work but he doesn't really care. Why would he invite me to come in if he thinks I should go to work? He seemed cool if I did. More importantly, despite my fear of what I would see inside, I owed it to The Store to see her again, if this suddenly becomes ... The Last Time.
So I changed my mind, even though delaying that decision meant I could say to myself that I choose to come in on my own instead of at the coercion of My Father, even though that would not be true at all. I turned off the car, got out and walked, slowly, towards the (open) door. I didn't want to waltz in not thinking it'd be a big deal. For all I know, nothing would be what I thought it was. So I approached cautiously, hoping that any drastic change to The Store I could process if I saw it inch by inch.
As the inside of The Store slowly came into view, it looked the same ... mostly. My mind might be playing tricks with me, and the lights still mostly off aren't helping, but I noticed that there were less things on top of the shelves in the aisles since last week, the last time I dropped by.
Seeing as how it's mostly the same, I proceeded to go through my OCD way of paying homage to The Store: Walking all three aisles in both directions. I did that, slaloming up and down until I was pointed to the exit, where I would quickly go back into my car and drive off.
But I looked to the back of The Store, the business end, through the open door on my way out. That's where I saw all the hubbub, as well as where that stranger I saw going in was going. He was on top of one of the freezers, the last one my parents were keeping operable, in fact. I don't know what he was doing, but my paranoid guess? He's dismantling the freezer from the top. There were other things on top of that freezer, but when I looked it was totally bare.
There was another stranger on the ground floor, doing something. Meanwhile, both my parents were busy ... doing things. No specifics and I didn't dare ask, but it looked like they were all actively ... this is hard to type ... tearing down The Store. And with that, I was too heartbroken to stay a second longer.
And for Chinese New Year's Eve Dinner tonight my sister-in-law asked my folks about when they were going back to Las Vegas. Seemed like an innocuous-enough question. Unfortunately it elicited the kind of answer I was dreading: "We're not leaving until we're all done with The Store." Great -- I'll have to endure them for a little while longer, and when they do leave for their "retirement home," that means there's no Store left.
I'm all helpless and depressed again.
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