Yes, I have a moat in front of my shop. No lie. I thought I would move to a more medieval look, and this would be better for scaring intruding customers away.
And it was free! The city did it for absolutely nothing.
I came in today, excited, as it's sort of an important day: the first day of my big two month closing sale. The day I advertized for with that cold hard cash that had to be pried from my tight, tight fingers. And I arrive to find... no sidewalk. The city chose this day of all days to tear it up. And when I mean tear, I really mean tear. Tearing to the measure of a trench three feet wide and three feet deep. A wonderful moat. Apparently customers will really have to earn their book sale. By hurdling a moat. Plus the dodging of jackhammers, plows and steam shovels. I'm only awaiting Indiana Jones to swing in on his whip. I may have to rig up the flaming arrows myself. If I want the proper atmosphere, that is. And, you know, atmosphere is everything. There's no joie de vivre without flaming arrows.
And they broke my step. Tiles are all busted. But, hey, luckily the step won't be mine for much longer. Ha! Do your worst, City of Windsor. If you cross my moat I shall smite thee with a copy of The Canterbury Tales. Annotated. Hardcover. You haven't been smited until you've been smited with one of those. The gold leaf adds an extra little flair to the smiting.
Oh, and the workers cut a gas line, too. If they really work on it I think they can get the whole downtown core to subside into the Detroit River. I'm putting it at 50-50 right now. The Union Gas guy came to check my furnace and pilot light. Apparently I'm not going to burn up or asphyxiate. Which is good to know. I'd hate to be robbed of the chance to see the bottom of the Detroit River from the comfy confines of a bookshop.