Kicking a business after it’s dead

As if doing business in Hawaii isn’t expensive or difficult enough, the State of Hawaii is siding with those who stand on the side of a road and take pleasure from kicking a dead horse.

Does anybody get to say, “enough already?” Probably not.

This is a story of business gone bad, and customers gone mad. The not-quite-ready-for-primetime restaurant, L’Uraku, tucked into a Japanese looking high rise along Kapiolani Boulevard, went out of business and closed the doors.

We dined there. Once. It just wasn’t a great place for a good meal, good ambiance, good service, or good prices for us to invest good money in a return visit. Apparently, others agreed with us, though it took them longer to see our vision, and L’Uraku managed to hang around another 10 years following our meal.

Businesses come, and businesses go. Ditto for restaurants in Hawaii. Remember An American Bistro on Kapahulu? We dined there and it closed down a few weeks later. Remember Bobby McGee’s in Waikiki? We dined there and it closed down a few weeks later.

We dined at L’Uraku and it closed down, too– 10 years later, but it closed and kept intact our “touch” for finding dining establishments that couldn’t make it. Remember the Burger King on North King Street? Yep. We picked up a few Whoppers and Burger King pulled the plug.

If only there were brown bags allowed during sessions of the legislature in the State Capitol Building. One visit from us and a bag of spam musubi would probably end the State’s Dead Horse Beating Marathon.

The problem here is that L’Uraku sold gift certificates while they were still in business. State law requires said certificate to be good for two years, and apparently the last two years of L’Uraku’s certificates didn’t last that long. Worse, before or after L’Uraku shuttered the doors, they didn’t tell anyone who had purchased gift certificates what they could do with their unused certificates.

There’s an implication as to what previous customers could do with their certificates, but this column is read by family members.

The State is suing the owners and operators of L’Uraku because, even if a business closes down, there’s still that obligation to customers.

If my horse decides to die while I’m riding through the woods, can I kick it back to life? If the horse didn’t warn me that it would die before carrying me through the woods, is it still obligated to carry me, even after it dies?

The State seems to think so.

I understand the sentiment, the legality, and the reality of this unfortunate situation. But there is a time to stop kicking a dead horse.