Real Estate Envy

If you've stopped by PJP Buttonwood in the last week or so, you've likely seen a lot of construction activity in the parking lot.  The entire 2800 square feet to our north has been leased and is on target for a fall opening date.  (Rumor has it that the space will be an indoor inflatables play place for kids.) We are super excited to have more foot traffic to 3601 Buttonwood and so I say this in the nicest possible way, but OH MY WORD, ALL THE HAMMERING...I have no idea what they are doing over there, but I'm pretty certain that they could just get some sticks of dynamite and blow up the space and rebuild it and it would be less noisy than whatever construction type activities were going on today.  My confidence was not bolstered by the occasional group of construction workers walking into PJP and analyzing our walls and asking questions about what pipes did what...then disappearing and jackhammering some more.  Here is a quick tip...if you are a construction worker and you don't know why we have electric running in certain places, I WON'T EITHER.  My best advice?  Don't cut through anything.  And I think you have to call someone before you dig.


The addition of the alleged bounce house mecca means that only one space is left unoccupied at 3601 Buttonwood, which is notable considering that the building sat largely unoccupied for years.  The single remaining space is approximately 1500 square feet and immediately south of PJP.  One day not long ago, some workers were inside that space and I took a quick has carpet in it, which makes me think that perhaps it was an office space in the early days.

Whatever the case, we may be harboring a case of real estate envy.  Surprisingly enough, space inside of PJP Buttonwood is at a premium.  We are super excited to begin shipping our jelly jar pies in two weeks, but first we must clear space for the 1,000 shipping boxes we ordered.  And instead of figuring out how that is going to happen, we find ourselves swooning over ideas of cutting a big hole in the wall and using the empty space to the south as a storage room, shipping prep, and office space.  I see only a few flaws in our grand plan...1) I'm guessing the rent is super expensive.  I also bet Silent Stan doesn't cut you any deals for already writing one large rent check a month.  2) The mere thought of what the city requires you do if you want to cut a six-foot hole in the wall and install some super cute french doors actually sends a chill down my spine.  At a minimum, I bet you need an architect, a structural engineer, and a mechanical engineer.  And $3,482 in permit costs.  And signature in blood.  In triplicate.  3)  One of those aforementioned parties will probably think we would need to upgrade the HVAC unit in case we were to get sweaty while folding shipping boxes.  And every great woman likely only has one epic HVAC argument in her soul.

All that acknowledged, if we ever could afford rent and professional opinions from all the people, my first expenditure would be on Sam's Club sized bottles of ibuprofen for our neighbors so that when we blast the hole, no one would suffer from a four hour banging related headache.  Ahem.