Over the Thanksgiving weekend, we put the final touches on the shop. We put up a sample of each poster, including a few in the back room with a black light. In the windows were the fine albums we had purchased in the city - no one else in town had them but some knew of their existence. We brought back the first edition of a large alternative newspaper called Rolling Stone and it was full of news of the musicians we admired and listened to each day. We got the money box ready and got change from the bank on Friday. The stereo was all set up, the headphones were sitting in the rocking chair by the counter and we were ready for people. We even had a mostly empty display case, waiting for Salem people to bring in their home-made treasures to sell
Monday was exciting - at least for me. My parents were suffering through this part of my life but continued to support me in any way they could. I don't think they really knew what we were doing in the shop besides "opening a store" but I'm sure they had doubts about our success. Events in the coming weeks might allay some of the fear of our financial ruin and probably bring other new fears to light, like the legality of our merchandise. Mom stepped forward to help me with my clothing choices that first day and suggested that I wear a sports jacket on my first day as a businessman. It was a Harris Tweed that had been made to order in London for a ridiculously low price. I still have the one that was made for father and wear it when I want to keep warm, no matter what. I looked kind of sharp I guess, probably much squarer than I wanted. My hair was not long but I had some fuzzy muttonchops that were my claim to the new age.
We opened the door at noon, as per the posted hours on the door and our business cards. A few times as we were preparing the shop, some shy teenagers lurked around and eyeballed us, but no one stopped to talk until we opened. I guess we were pretty different than any other store in town.
There I was, a man with a store, sitting on a high wooden stool above the desk, eyeing the jail across the street and watching the people walk by. We were OPEN.
One of the first customers was a parent; someone with a teenager who had mentioned the shop. She looked around very uncomfortably and asked which poster was popular. Heck, I didn't know, I hadn't sold any yet, but I recommended the Janis Joplin one. It was a very cool poster to a 19 year old male. Janis was photographed in black and white, standing, smiling, covered with beads, black clothes, hair down to there and if you looked real close, you could see one of her nipples exposed. My first customer passed that poster by for a Greatful Dead concert poster, also very cool but without any exposed nipples. I got a copy of that poster out of the black light/storage room and carefully pulled out just enough plain brown wrapping paper out of slot in the desk, cut it, rolled the poster up in it, put two pieces of scotch tape on the ends and handed it to her. She paid with cash and that first dollar bill went on the wall behind me. We were in business.
Somewhere around 3 or 4, Mike and Bill came in and it was with great pride I pointed to our first dollar. This called for Pepsi's for everyone (free of course!) and the day began. It was that week that the local newspaper discovered us.
