Matthew Tzuker of Portland is an executive recruiter and a writer.

What are we doing, Portland? How are we all going about our days in these end times, pretending that nothing is happening? We brush our teeth in the morning, pull on our boots to trudge through the slush. We gather with friends at an endless array of holiday parties, talking about anything but the inevitable approaching void.

Is it Portland’s unique brand of Yankee tough and hipster cool that allows us to elide past our fate? Fellow citizens, Renys is closing its Congress Street location on Dec. 31 and I don’t think we are properly dealing with that fact.

I have lived in Portland about a dozen years and was surprised to learn that Renys has only been here a little longer than that. I assumed the city had been built around it.

In a downtown that prioritizes charm above convenience or affordability, Renys somehow attended to all three. It has been a vertex between old and young, rich and poor, chic and lowbrow. Its large footprint in the Arts District declared that Portland was not isolated in its own trendy bubble, but was along for the same adventure as the rest of Maine.  

I have known this closure was coming for some time but, personally, think I was in denial. That changed recently when I needed a board game, warm socks and pickles. I walked into a store with already-emptying aisles and a sign in the window announcing that, regardless of where we are on our journey, Portland, Renys has already emotionally moved on from us.

Portlanders wanting a one-stop shop will now have to drive out of town to go to one of Renys’ larger and more evil counterparts. Unfortunately that won’t be an option for many of our citizens. Now, in a city dealing with a crisis of empty storefronts, the biggest storefront is about to be empty.

But let’s not give up yet, Portland. Has anybody tried apologizing to the corporate office, like really sincerely, for whatever we have done wrong? Maybe we can prove that we can change and revitalize our downtown in the process. 

If that doesn’t work, there may still be time to engineer some last-minute Frank Capra-esque miracle. We should all cancel our New Year’s Eve plans. Between now and then we will buy out everything in the store to prove that we can be a profitable market, worth whatever obstacles we may throw in the way. Then we will meet at Renys on the evening of the 31st, a song in our hearts and aglow with Maine spirit.

A down and out lawyer will rush through the crowd to announce he found a clause in the lease that changes everything. Then old Mr. Reny will walk in with his cane and fleece-lined top hat and see that he was wrong and will announce in a firm voice that Renys needs Portland as much as Portland needs Renys. 

Then we will all join in a chorus of the Renys jingle and pass around jars of Raye’s Mustard in celebration.