Empty As My Pockets

There's a restaurant near my house that opened its doors some time ago. Not so long ago, but not exactly yesterday. I've been by this spot numerous times. It's right next door to a Subway sandwich place where my oldest son often purchases a sandwich before a wrestling tournament. I've driven by for various other reasons at all different times of day and night. And not one. single. time. have I ever seen anyone in the restaurant. Never have I seen anyone sitting at a table, having a meal. I cringe every time I drive by and see it sitting there, empty as a beer closet in premises where painters have been at work (name the author of this quote. Can you do it without a google search?). Sometimes I even try to avoid looking but my eyes have a mind of their own, zinging over to the windows, frantically searching for any sign of life. Nothing.

Now I know what you're thinking: I could be a customer!! But hold on! First of all, it's a vegetarian restaurant and mostly I'm a carnivore. You know, I guess that's not really even true though I do like a hamburger now and then. And I eat a lot of chicken. Other than that, I could do vegetarian okay. Especially for a meal here and there. So I can't really use that as my excuse, I suppose, but there's something that gives me pause about going to a restaurant where no one else ever goes. I'm assuming that all those un-customers know something I don't. They can't all be wrong, can they?

I know someone has to be first, but I've never been a big fan of being first at certain things: I'd never be first for a surgery of any kind, for instance. Here, let me perform your open-heart surgery. By the way, I've never done this before, but it'll be fine. Obviously someone somewhere was first for these things. And I applaud them; I admire their courage. And anyway, come on, you say--clearly, the only possible downside of being first at a restaurant is a bad meal and not, say, death. Right? Though I suppose there's always that possibility after all. You see how complicated it gets.

So what's the problem with this place? Location? Lack of advertising? Aesthetically unappealing? (Somewhat, yes.) Does it smell?

I just always feel so bad for people who have an idea that they think is really great and then nobody comes. I feel a sort of embarrassed compassion. What if it was a life-long dream? What if they've invested everything in it? Makes me hurt, kind of. Even so, I've got to run. I'm meeting a friend at In 'N' Out.