August 12, 2013
Last night I dreamed I was walking down Second Avenue at St. Mark's. I looked up and saw a sign over Gem Spa announcing it was closed and "thank you for 98 years of business" (in reality, not quite 98). The place was already empty. I stood there in shock for a minute, then flew into a rage. I stormed into the 7-Eleven across the street and demanded of the cashier, "Are you the owner? Are you the fucking owner?" I screamed at him about how the closing of Gem Spa was his fault and told him, "I hope you fucking die. I hope you die a thousand deaths. I hope you get cancer!" I considered trashing the place, but didn't want to get arrested, so I walked out.
I picked up the Village Voice and the Gem Spa closing was on their cover. Inside was a 5-page story about it, citing 7-Eleven as the cause. I felt powerless to do anything.