short-story

You are the wind beneath my wings.

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Day 6:

Today was a fairly boring day for Adam and Jeff.  Until it wasn’t.  

I’ll start with the fun stories for those who only read a paragraph or so.  

Adam and I were meeting an old work friend of his.  We were going to have a very quick dinner at Legasea, at the Moxy Hotel.  It was near her work, and since she got off late and we had a show to get to it had to be quick.  

We were running late, and my right knee was being a pain in the ass, so when I saw the long flight of stairs to the second floor, I requested the elevator.  We pushed the button and waited.  It came pretty quickly.  We entered first, followed by two couples and a single man.  The single man pressed the buttons we needed and the elevator began to move.  

The elevator lifted about a foot, then dropped suddenly about a foot, then the screen you used for buttons went dark.  We waited.  Nothing.  The single man pressed the screen but nothing was happening.  At first we were all joking and laughing, until we realized that we were stuck.  

I lived in NYC for a long time, and I’ve used elevators all my life, even in some questionable buildings, but I’ve never gotten stuck.  It was true for everyone in the elevator.  

The man standing behind me announced that we all should stay calm.  No one was panicking, but okay.  The man on the other side of me popped open a can containing a margarita.  I jokingly asked if he had another and he showed me he did.  Still no one was panicking.  

Soon the single guy, who was next to the screen took control.  First, he tried calling for help on the elevator system.  No one answered.  At my new job, if you call on the elevator it goes to 911.  He tried again.  Still no answer.  

He then pressed the alarm.  Now a loud alarm was going off.  Still, no one was responding.  Eventually, he pried open the door enough to realize we were still on the first floor.  He ended up prying them open about 6 inches and suggested we call for help, at which point the woman behind Adam on the other side of the elevator let out a blood curdling scream.  Like something you’d hear on Friday the 13th.  The man in charge announced, no more of that, why don’t you let me call for help.  So he stood next to the doors and began to call for help.  

Here’s the fucked-up part.  We could see people walking by, but no one was interested in helping.  The alarm is still going off.  He’s calling for help.  And after what seemed like forever, maintenance showed up, pried the doors open from the outside and let us out.  In all it was ten minutes at the most, but it’s a long time to be stuck, when you don’t know the outcome.  

Adam was very sweet when we got out.  He said, “I was just upset we weren’t standing together so I could hold your hand.” 

Once we were out, we walked up the stairs, had dinner and caught up with our friend.  

As for the rest of the day:

We had bagels again.

We saw The Outsiders again.  With NINE high school groups.  (There was a print out of the schools inserted in the Playbill).  The show was great.  And it’s a great first Broadway experience for kids, as there is fire, and rain, and the sets and lighting are wonderful.  And it really is a great score.  I cried again, even though I knew how it ended.  

After the show we grabbed a snack at Shake Shack, and NYC institution at this point.  

After dinner, we saw Beaches.  

On the way home we stopped at Dante Apertivo for a night cap.  I had the best boulevardier I’ve had all week.  The only thing that would have made it better would have been if they’d had Rittenhouse as the base spirit.  

Now it’s approaching midnight.  I’m sleeping, so I’m going to shower and go to bed.  

I put a little more mascara on!

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I went to Boston yesterday to see a play.  Not a musical.  But a play.  Miracle of miracles.  We went down early, had dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, which we had not done in years, then walked from The Prudential Center, the Four Seasons, where we had a drink in the lobby.  

It’s fun to go to places that focus so much energy on hospitality.  The doors were held open for us when we entered.  The front desk agent walked us to the bar.  The host walked us to the table.  The server was warm and friends and brought our drinks which were delicious.  The host checked back in on us.  We paid, and were thanked by at least six people as we exited.  

We then made our way to Huntington Stage, which was about a 10 minute walk away.  We arrived early, took our seats and took in the room.  It was closing night for When Playwrights Kill, and there was a buzz in the room.  There almost always is on closing nights as often there are a large number of friends and colleagues in the room.

We did see Laura Bell Bundy during intermission who I assume was there to see here Legally Blonde co-star Marissa.  The show was a lot of fun, loosely based on the experience the playwright had years ago when he wrote a show staring a well-known movie actress.  The show had lots of inside theater jokes, the cast was insanely good and the audience had a great time.  

Now to the meat of the story.  

I am a man of a certain age.   We’ll call me old.  There was a time when I was not old, much thinner, and much more mobile when I might turn a head or two, but those days are long past.  

So imagine my surprise, when I’m outside the restroom, during intermission, waiting for Adam, when I look up the stairs to see a man gazing at me.  I think to myself, he must be looking at someone behind me and turn, but nope.  He’s looking at me.  I divert my eyes and pretend not to have noticed.  When I look back, he’s looking at his phone, and for a moment, I think he’s with the kids in front of him.  But nope.  He sees me looking and gazes at me again.  

I divert my eyes again.  I think to myself, WOW, this hasn’t happened in a long time.  I don’t even know how to respond.  It actually makes me self-conscious and nervous more than anything.  

I look again, and he’s still gazing at me.  Perhaps he thinks I’m someone he knows, but I swear I’ve never seen him before.  This time I smile, and he smiles back.  Now I’m even more nervous.  

Finally, the line he is in moves down the stairs and he’s past me.  However, he keeps looking over his shoulder at me.  

Then Adam arrives.  

He grabs my hand, and say, “Don’t look, but I think my next boyfriend is line for the restroom.”  He looks behind him and sees the guy who finally has his back to me.  

Adam goes, he’s cute.  And he was.  Probably late 30’s early 40’s.  Nice building.  Sandy blonde hair.  Blue eyes.  He’s also about 6’ tall.  

Adam and I head back upstairs and watch the room.  There once again is energy in the room.  Lots of people moving about from group to group.  

We take our seats.  The second act starts.  We love it.  

The show ends, gets a rousing standing ovation. (What show doesn’t these days?”).

We have a two-hour drive in front of us so we make our way back down to the restrooms.  I finish first, I always do, and am waiting at the bottom of the stairs once again for Adam.   It’s still kind of crowded when I notice an older gay man waiting across the room.  And what would you know, my new boyfriend comes out and greets him. 

Fifteen seconds later, Adam walks out, has to maneuver between them and grabs my hand.  I say to Adam, “My new boyfriend has a type.”  And wants to know what that means and I reply, “Take a look, his boyfriend looks just like me only shorter.”

And he did.  He was older, with a bigger build and bright blue eyes.  Only shorter.  We were even dressed a like.  

Before anyone panics, I’m not looking for a new boyfriend.  But I do have to say, that it made my heart patter, to know someone, other than Adam might find me attractive.  It has been a long while since this has happened.  

As we exited the building, joining the crowd on the sidewalk, Adam grabbed my hand and we started toward our car back at the Prudential Center.  We waited the appropriate 500 feet before we really started to discussing the show.  

Drivin’ down the road, I get a feelin’ that I should’ve been home yesterday, yesterday!

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I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I’ve spent my entire adult restaurant career advocating for my young staff to go live their lives.

I say adult, which means management.

I say young staff, because I’m probably not going to give the same advice to a 50-year-old staff member.

The advice I have given over and over and over and over, is go forth and DON’T multiply.

In 2013, we hired a young kid named Nick, who was desperate to become a bartender. BUT. He’d never bartended in his life. We struck a deal with him. Work service bar for the summer, days only, and we’ll let you bartend. He got to learn how to make drinks. We got a service bartender who wasn’t going to wait on more than 5 or 6 guests a day. And his earnings were meager.

His dream was go get bartending experience and then go to Colorado and be a ski bum. Teaching skiing lessons during the day, bartending at night.

And he worked hard that summer. But alas, he also fell in love.

And at the end of the summer he was living with his girlfriend in Maine, and bartending for me, making no money.

I told him over and over, put your shit in your car and drive to Colorado. But he was in love and said he couldn’t.

Then Christmas came, and his girlfriend broke up with him on Christmas Eve. He came back after the new year heartbroken. He had no girlfriend, a job that didn’t pay well, and he felt it was too late to go west.

I asked him one day: What’s keeping you here? He said nothing. I asked if he was scared? And he said yes. I said, “Nick. Pack a couple of big bags. Put them in your car. And go. You don’t have to give notice to me. It’s winter, we’ll manage. Just go. And I’ll make you this promise. If you can’t find work, get homesick, or worse, I’ll have hire you the minute you get back.

Two days later he was gone.

I heard from him a couple of times, and he was living his best life in Colorado.

On Monday of this week, a sous chef, who left in September, came in to tell me he was going to Colorado to cook for the summer/winter. I congratulated him. He said he was flying out to get a place, meet his new team, and then flying home to drive back across the country.

I encouraged him to tell his new restaurant that he needed an extra week so that when he drove across country is wasn’t a trip to get from A to B but a chance to stop and see the country. Everyone needs to see the Bridges of Madison County. Everyone, should stop and go to Cedar Point and ride a roller coaster.

I can’t wait to hear about his adventures.

I love nothing more than watching young people I know fly and be free.

This is a long way of saying I’m very grateful for the number of lives I’ve lived. Not always perfectly. But I’ve had a blast. I’ve lived in the following states: Kentucky, Georgia, Ohio, Kansas, New York, Iowa, Alabama (for two weeks), California, Oklahoma, and Maine. Each adventure more exciting than the next.

I really only stressed about money a couple of times, and had to ask my parents for a favor a time or two, but I just went. And I didn’t move lightly. I took a 24’ UHaul to Alabama, then two weeks later, loaded it up and moved back home, leaving the keys to my apartment on the kitchen counter. I drove a U-Haul cross country twice to get to California and back.

I have only a couple of regrets in my life. Seriously. And even then, I’m aware enough to know that the experiences I regret helped me make me who I am today. I met lots of wonderful people. I saw lots of lovely places.

I will be eternally grateful for the life I’ve lived. It’s never been boring. It’s never been for the weak of heart.

PS. I promise I’m not dying. Just sharing stories of my life in the fast lane.

Tune in tomorrow when I talk about the Grand Canyon.