Buying 117
We found a building at 117 W. 24th St. that would be perfect for Our Time Kitchen. The date of the auction was Black Solstice, December 21st, 2020.
I try not to be superstitious but I would by lying if I didn’t also say that I am always looking for signs that can reassure me that I’m headed in the right direction.
Cat and I had been looking for a building for about 4 months. It had begun to feel a bit like a wild goose chase. Like the people we were working with weren’t taking us seriously. We had made it clear what our priorities were: ownership, Baltimore, public transit/access and, of course, we had a financial cap to what this business would be able to afford. Everything on our wish list that came after that was nuanced and dreamy. Real estate agents sent us long lists of available properties, usually for rent, mostly on the periphery or outside of the city, some in old outlet malls. One of their ideas for us was a restaurant in Harbor East on sale for a million dollars. In other words, nothing that even came close to our visions for Our Time. For much of the time Cat and I were looking, we would send each other shrug emojis and eye roll emojis after each email our commercial realtor sent. It was disheartening, and like what we often experience as women business owners, we caught ourselves wondering if people are taking us seriously.
Then 117 came up. A residential realtor who was adamantly on our side was still sending us listings she thought fit our mission and vision. 117 was an old building about to go up for auction in Old Goucher. We could own it, it was on a bus line, and it was in central Baltimore. It even had perks like green space, food truck parking, space for growth, close enough to privileged (white) neighborhoods that could spend money with our future tenants, while also being central enough for people to easily get to for work. It fit a niche, and we fell in love.
Friday December 18th, we had one hour to view the property. Cat and I were a bit panicked going in, worried that we were out of our league when it came to all the unknowns of buying a building at an auction (who does that?). We made sure that Cat’s builder friend, Changa, could be there to help us really “see” the building. As we walked around, we scoped out the five or so other groups viewing the property, wondering if they had dreams like ours, but assuming most of them were interested in making money by flipping the property. Cat and I poked around, tapping on walls and opening doors and generally feeling bewildered. More in awe of the 1930’s wall paper that still coated the 3rd floor than the new electrical meters set up in the basement. Regardless of what we didn’t know, we could both see our business in this location, imagining a to-go window, a garden, the food truck, the bustle and hustle and beauty we could build in collective strength. We stepped outside and Changa and our realtors told us there was value, in the traditional and structural sense, to match with the value we saw.
We spent the weekend crunching numbers. Estimating all the renovation costs and weighing out the business plan’s break-even projections with all the loans we would have to take on to make this work. We settled on our high bid and waited for 12pm on Monday December 21st with the idea that we would put in a bid at the last minute.
Cat walks into my house and the first thing she asks me is if I’ve seen the Black Solstice content all over the internet. Black people embracing the power in the darkest day of the year, spreading joy and light and strength in viral videos. She told me it was going to be a good day.
We sat down at our computer and watched the hands of the clock move ever so slowly. Constantly refreshing the auction page to keep tabs on the other buyers. The auction closed at noon, but would extend as long as people continued to bid every 60 seconds. The number is gradually climbing and Cat and I are gradually freaking out. Noon hits and it’s down to three buyers. A button on the screen let’s you increase the price by $1,000, which we continued to do. Holding our collective breaths as the seconds counted down 15, 14, 13… out bid, +$1,000, 30, 29, 28… outbid. We were feeling wild, nervous, confused, out of our element. I told her we should pull a tarot card from my favorite deck Slow Holler, a deck “collaboratively illustrated and imagined by over 30 artists and 4 writers who have Southern ties, identify as queer or both”. +$1,000, we pulled a card and placed it face down… outbid. +$1,000, we hit our max… 13, 12, 11… outbid. It was over. We couldn’t risk going any higher.
Cat and I sat dumbfounded at the computer. 4 months of searching and $1,000 away from taking our concept from our imagination and fortifying it in Baltimore brick. Gone. We flipped the card in silence.
“The Guild • 5”
Find your place. Root into deeper soil. Feel held by the shape the world offers you or recognize if you need to resist it. Shore up your single self through collaboration. Join forces with lineages, unbroken and renewed. Question whatever feels restrictive in your group. Balance the “I” with the “we”. See yourself as part of a history, of generations.
The Guild represents those larger systems that bind us to each other and to the past. These include traditions, institutions, schools, bureaucracies, political collectives, and even cultural identities. The guild is where you learn what shape you take when you’re engaged with a larger system. It asks how we can become something together, situating each individual self in an arc of history and tradition. The guild speaks of the supportive structures that buttress us from the winds of change and challenge the building up of fertile soil after generations of growth, the lineage of ancestors, political heroes, and visionaries we claim to help us create our own paths. It can also describe a closed system, where the past has too much strength, stifling new ideas and impulses. When the Guild appears in your reading, it’s time to consider your relationship to the past and what it has built: cultures, traditions, institutions. How do you navigate your own desires, your autonomy, and your unique vision as you collaborate with a larger system? Whether you’re in a school, a job, a family structure, or even an artistic tradition, what kinds of compromises are you making, with what consequences?” -Slow Holler Tarot Deck
We sat back. The sting of feeling our dream not coming true mellowing out with the reminder that we are here together, building something not just for ourselves but for a city we love. We sent an e-mail to the auction company, letting them know that if the opportunity arose we would step into the shoes of the winning bid. And then got up quietly and went our separate ways for the day.
At 6pm I got a call. The auction company. They said the person who out-bid us, bids all the time. The auction company had mentioned our interest and described our vision to the winning bidder. Their response was to step aside, knowing that there would be other buildings where they could make money coming up soon enough. It was ours if we wanted it.
Today, 52 days later, and with just a taste of the bureaucratic process that is ahead of us, the seller has signed over the title to Our Time LLC. Cat and I co-own a building, built in 1900, in Old Goucher, at 117 W. 24th St. We’ve got our base, our first building block, our Baltimore bricks to build from.
-kiah
