My Korean Deli_ Risking It All for a Convenience Store - Ben Ryder Howe [115]
“So,” he says eagerly, licking his lips as he opens his briefcase, “what have you done to mitigate your circumstances?”
Gab opens her own briefcase and presents an affidavit certifying that we have terminated Emo’s employment. It’s an absurd document—This is to certify that I have fired my own aunt—but the city insists upon it if a violator has any hope of leniency.
“Are you representing the deli owner?” Patrice or whatever his name is asks Gab.
“I am the deli owner,” Gab says.
This causes Patrice or whatever his name is to raise his eyebrows, a sign that things might be working in our favor. Gab and I had anticipated that the Adjudication Division of Consumer Affairs rarely saw actual lawyers accustomed to courtroom argument. Well, today for once they’ll get a real fight, we vowed, for Gab has prepared not just affidavits but taken pictures of the store and gathered documents showing that as shopkeepers we have taken every possible measure to prevent underage sales. She’s pored over Consumer Affairs’ own regulations, highlighting passages in neon pink the way she did with homework assignments in college, then assembled her evidence into a dossier the size and weight of a phone book. And to top it all off she’s put on her most fearsome lawyer’s outfit, a truly sharklike skirt-and-jacket combo, which more than makes her stick out from those grease-stained schlubs in their puffy jackets.
But Patrice or whatever his name is no pushover. After Gab presents her case, he attempts to show that we could have done more. “Is that sign really visible?” he asks, jabbing his finger at one of Gab’s pictures. “Did you give clear instructions to your employees?” Gab, however, is able to parry each thrust, and after half an hour or so she seems to gain the upper hand. Patrice stops probing, leans back in his chair, and smiles for the first time.
“This is very impressive,” he says, lifting up the dossier. “I’ve been here a few years, and I can say I’ve never seen anything like it.” He says that strictly speaking, the tobacco license has to be surrendered whenever there are two violations; however, because of our strenuous efforts to be responsible storeowners, he can see the case for leniency. He promises to inform us of his decision in a few weeks.
On the way home Gab and I can’t help but gloat a little. Patrice’s reassuring demeanor as he shuttled us out left us feeling no doubt that things will turn out as we hoped. To celebrate, we buy a couple of beers at a deli (wrapped in brown paper bags, of course, as per New York City Administrative Code, section 10-125, “consumption of alcohol in public”: “No person shall drink or consume an alcoholic beverage, or possess, with intent to drink or consume, an open container containing an alcoholic beverage in any public place except at a block party, feast or similar function for which a permit has been obtained …) and drink them in the company of pigeons and seagulls on the Brooklyn-facing side of the Staten Island Ferry as it makes a glorious midday crossing of New York Harbor.
WHEN THE LETTER arrives, I can almost taste the beer on the ferry coming back up, and wish that the pigeons were around so that I could kick or at least yell at one of them. The city, as Patrice had led us to believe, had given us credit for the measures we had taken to prevent underage tobacco sales, including the firing of Emo. However, says the letter, there was one measure we didn’t take: we didn’t fire the person who originally got us in trouble for selling tobacco to a minor—that is, me. Apparently the city thought that I should fire myself (something I would have been all too happy to do at the time, if it were possible) or maybe it wanted Gab to, which would have required what? Us to get a divorce and split up our assets? Hide the fact that we co-owned the store? Sell the business to a relative, just as the deli owner at Habib’s suggested? Regardless, it’s too late now, and the city is denying our request for leniency. We must forfeit our licenses or face criminal