The snow season has officially arrived in Cleveland, albeit a little bit late. (Not that I'm complaining. Much.) With it comes the slushy, icy, at times impassable, roads. This weekend's twenty-four hour snowstorm took its toll - it took some of our managers almost two hours to get to work, and it's caused me to wait for the plows instead of chancing the drive. But that doesn't stop our regulars who have earned the Diehard moniker.
Our Sunday New York Times reader still showed up. The lady in the purple who shops our bestsellers with a basket in hand still came in brandishing her Gives Back card. Teenagers with giftcards burning holes in their pockets showed up to buy Vera Bradley bags before heading back to school this week. The professor from CSU who holes up in our rocking chairs stayed for her three hours on Sunday. Our fresh-from-the-gym omelet-eater said good morning to the entire staff, wolfed down his food at the Bistro, and headed back into the breach. And we've had our share of the browsers, the new faces, and the recurring characters coming in asking for a good read for these cold days.
Even though we've done in a day what we did in an hour just a week ago, we still had a great day because we still mattered to these people. To these shoppers, we're worth the risk. And to the customers who will wait for the plows and maybe a peek of sunshine, we promise to be ready and as grateful as we are to the ones who were crazy enough to come visit during the snowstorm.