Dear Valued Customers, Partners, and Friends,

It is with a heavy heart—and a tangled mix of frustration, exhaustion, and gratitude—that I write to share a decision I never imagined having to make: Note Worthy will close its doors permanently on January 1st. This is not a whim; it is a choice forced upon me by circumstances far beyond my control.

When I opened the doors to this modest space a year ago, my vision was simple. I wanted a welcoming venue where creativity, community, and connection could thrive without demanding an entire paycheck for a night out. For a time that vision lived, thanks to you—our loyal patrons, generous partners, and supportive friends. Together we hosted karaoke nights, workshops, private events and countless spontaneous conversations that turned strangers into family. Those memories are the true legacy of Note Worthy, and they will stay with me forever.

Over the past ten months, however, a cascade of obstacles has eroded the foundation of that dream. I have tried, repeatedly, to patch the cracks, but the structural problems run deeper than any repair I could afford. Below, I outline the key issues that have made it impossible for me to continue.

1. A Lease That Became a Liability

From the moment I signed the lease with Mr. Toshima and his property manager Alice, I was promised a professionally maintained space at a fair rate. In practice, the rent has been exorbitant while the building has deteriorated into a daily nightmare. My two units—originally a blank canvas—have turned into liabilities:

Unlocked and broken power boxes (outside) where people literally flipped a swith and my power was out for days.
Broken plumbing that leaked for weeks, damaging flooring and equipment.
Flickering lights and faulty wiring that forced us to shut down the venue on several evenings.
Air‑conditioning failures for the first five months, leaving us sweltering in 100 °F heat.
Scorpion sightings and an ongoing rodent problem that no pest‑control service has been able to eradicate.

Every month, I have been forced to allocate more of my limited budget to patch‑up work that should have been the landlord’s responsibility. The building’s condition is a constant reminder that the lease was a gamble I never consented to.

2. Safety and Dignity Under Threat

A venue thrives on the feeling of safety it offers its guests. Unfortunately, the property has become a magnet for unsanitary conditions and insecurity:

Unhoused individuals have taken shelter on the premises, often setting up camp everywhere on the property. While I have the utmost compassion for anyone in need, their presence has created uncomfortable—and at times frightening—situations for our patrons. Guests stepping outside for a breath of fresh air have encountered makeshift shelters, waste, and the unsettling sight of people we cannot protect.
Security measures promised by the management amounted to twice‑daily patrols by unarmed guards who merely drove through the lot, unable to intervene or permanently remove trespassers.
Criminal activity nearby escalated dramatically. In just two weeks, a neighboring shop, Exotic Fish, was robbed four times by the same individual. Police labeled the incidents “non‑emergencies,” and response times stretched into hours, leaving us to shoulder the emotional and financial fallout.

I have spent countless hours after each event cleaning, locking doors mid‑function, and apologizing to clients who felt unsafe. When the people who hold the keys to the building dismiss these concerns, the trust we built together begins to crumble.

3. Maintenance—A Ghost Story

If the physical infrastructure is the skeleton, maintenance is the circulatory system. In our case, it has been nothing more than a phantom:

The sole “maintenance” person, Scott, appeared once in ten months, before disappearing again.
Overflowing trash cans, graffiti sprayed across brick walls, and dripping water from outside water spigots have become daily realities.
Rodent droppings and scorpion are now part of the building’s “ecosystem,” a term used to excuse neglect.

Every minor repair has required me to hire external contractors at my own expense, further draining the modest margins of a small, community‑focused business.

4. The Loss of Your Trust

The most painful consequence of all this turmoil is seeing the confidence you placed in Note Worthy erode. I have read your messages—“I no longer feel safe here,” “I’m canceling my event,” “Please just close.” When the space you created feels unsafe, the very purpose of that space disappears. I cannot, in good conscience, continue to ask you to put your faith in a venue that can no longer guarantee your peace of mind.

What Comes Next?

I have paid the final month’s rent and will vacate the premises by January 1st. I am choosing not to share photographs of the building’s current state—not to hide the truth, but because I am exhausted from the embarrassment of this prolonged battle. The conditions I have endured are a stark reminder that the values of Note Worthy—community, safety, and creativity—were never reflected in the property’s management.

If you have any lingering questions or simply want to talk, please reach out directly at bigdog@pop‑up‑events.com. I will do my utmost to help each of you individually.

With Deep Appreciation

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for walking through our doors, for sharing your stories, and for giving this space its purpose. You made Note Worthy more than four walls; you made it a living, breathing community.

B. Downey & R. B. Taylor
Owners, Note Worthy

P.S. I hold onto the hope that one day I will open again—this time in a space where “lease” does not equate to a legal gamble, and where landlords remember they are not merely renting walls, but the future of the people who inhabit them.