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I'm nervous.
It's Sunday evening, the first time I've been scheduled to work a shift with Todd managing the Bar since the incident at the end of February that upset me so much. As part of the deal we worked out with Lanie and Victor, the owners, there were things Todd had to do before we'd work a shift again, and he's taken care of that obligation. Plus, he apologized to me weeks ago. But I still can't help feeling a little apprehensive; whether it's because I'm afraid of backlash or because I don't want him to resent me, I'm really not sure. Maybe a little of both.
But all things considered, the shift goes pretty smoothly. I'm on with Simone, and Diego is barbacking. The only thing wrong is that none of us wants to be there on such a gorgeous evening - the weather has been spectacular all weekend. Luckily I've managed to take advantage of it, but I still don't want to be inside just yet. Gary and I spent the afternoon in Central Park, just wandering around, taking in the scenery, people-watching, and stopping frequently to partake of food from carts. He didn't drop me off at the Bar until minutes before my shift started, and I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.
Through the front window of the Bar, I can see the colors of the street changing with the progressing sunset, when an attractive, sharply dressed woman in her mid-thirties steps up to the bar. "What can I get you?"
"It's the Lord's day, young lady, nobody should be drinking."
Of all the responses that occur to me in the next few seconds, I settle on, "How about a soft drink, then?"
She smiles. "That would be nice, thank you. I'll have a Coke."
As I serve her, a cheer goes up in the Bar. I turn to the TV just in time to see my boy Jason Giambi hit a third-inning RBI single that puts the Yankees up 3-0 against the Red Sox. "Yes!" I yell, with a fist-pump that seems to alarm my newest customer a little bit. "I'm sorry, I'm just a huge fan of his," I point to the close-up shot of Jason on the screen.
She sips from her Coke, and tilts her head. "You lust after him?"
"What? Well, yes, I guess so. He's attractive. There's nothing wrong with lust. None of us would be here if it weren't for lust."
"Young lady -"
"Please, call me Debra."
"Debra, there is a world of difference between the lust you feel for a married man and the expression of love between a husband and wife that brings a new life into this world."
"I wouldn't know, I've never been married."
"You will be, and then you'll understand."
"I don't know, but I like your confidence."
"It's faith, Debra."
I smile and nod, and go to serve some other folks along the bar. With the top of the third inning over, the Yankees retake the field, with rookie Chase Wright on the mound; and a couple of minutes later, I see my new friend holding her glass out, already empty. I return to refill it.
"Debra, would you please do me a favor, and consider no longer serving alcohol on the Lord's day?"
"Well, it's how I earn my living, and I don't have an awful lot of say in what nights they schedule me to work. I have some seniority, but I prefer to save those requests for special occasions, or holidays with my family. Speaking of which, I'm Jewish, so no offense, but for me, Sunday is just Sunday."
Crack. Manny Ramirez takes Wright deep for a two-out solo homer, and it's 3-1, Yankees.
"I appreciate the respect of your frankness."
I shrug. "I try not to bring up religion with my customers, but if they bring it up first, I see no reason not to be honest."
She smiles. "This is one of the reasons that you will someday know what it feels like to truly share your life with another person."
In light of the sentiment, I let the split infinitive slide. "That's very sweet of you, and once again, I appreciate your confidence."
"Faith, Debra."
"So let's assume for a minute that you're right, and I'm destined to share my life with someone in a state of bliss. How will I know when I've met the right one?"
She rubs the ring on her left hand. "For me, it was an act of faith as much as anything else in my life has been. My husband was sure, and he asked me to let him be sure enough for both of us. I've never looked back, and he's absolutely been my rock."
Crack. J. D. Drew knocks one out of the park, too. 3-2, Yankees.
"What if I'm not willing to take that kind of leap of faith?"
"Well, you may not have to. You may be the one to ask for the leap of faith, not the one to make it. But you should also look for signs, as I do in other parts of my life."
"Signs? Like, fireworks in the sky during a first kiss? A billboard saying 'Marry Bob'?"
She laughs. "Signs are never that obvious, of course. If they were, life wouldn't be very interesting at all. But that doesn't mean the signs aren't there." She downs the rest of her second Coke, and stands up from her stool.
"Would you like another?"
"No, that's all right; I'm actually hoping to visit a few more bars today."
"Do you really believe you're going to get anybody to stop drinking because it's Sunday?"
"If they are able to see the signs," she says. "I have faith."
Crack. Mike Lowell hits a home run. 3-3.
"Well, enjoy the weather. It was a pleasure talking to you, and I hope you come back to see us again."
"Thank you, Debra." She departs into the deepening twilight.
"What was that all about?" asks Simone.
I shake my head. "Oh, nothing. Nice lady, but a little weird."
"Hey, did you see the Red Sox tied it up on three consecutive home runs? That's insane."
Diego, passing by with a case of bottles for the cooler, says, "That's not so insane - really, it happens more than you might think. Now, four home runs in a row, that would be insane - a quarter million games played in the history of major league baseball, and that has happened only four times. Dodgers did it last year, but before that, it hadn't happened since the sixties."
My phone vibrates, and since it's Gary, and things aren't terribly busy, I take it. "Hi, what's up?"
"Hi, Debra, how's your shift going?"
"Not bad, nothing too unusual. Are you okay? You just dropped me off a couple of hours ago."
"Yeah, I just wondered if I could swing by when you're done and take you out to dinner. I've -- I just wanted to say I fancy you and I didn't want to wait another few days to say it."
I smile. "That's really sweet, Gary. Of course you can pick me up when I'm done. I'll see you in a few hours."
I hang up, and make a note to look up exactly what level of emotion "fancy" implies to South African New Zealanders.
Crack. Jason Varitek this time - four batters, four homers. 4-3, Red Sox.
"Insane," says Simone, shaking her head.
It's Sunday evening, the first time I've been scheduled to work a shift with Todd managing the Bar since the incident at the end of February that upset me so much. As part of the deal we worked out with Lanie and Victor, the owners, there were things Todd had to do before we'd work a shift again, and he's taken care of that obligation. Plus, he apologized to me weeks ago. But I still can't help feeling a little apprehensive; whether it's because I'm afraid of backlash or because I don't want him to resent me, I'm really not sure. Maybe a little of both.
But all things considered, the shift goes pretty smoothly. I'm on with Simone, and Diego is barbacking. The only thing wrong is that none of us wants to be there on such a gorgeous evening - the weather has been spectacular all weekend. Luckily I've managed to take advantage of it, but I still don't want to be inside just yet. Gary and I spent the afternoon in Central Park, just wandering around, taking in the scenery, people-watching, and stopping frequently to partake of food from carts. He didn't drop me off at the Bar until minutes before my shift started, and I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.
Through the front window of the Bar, I can see the colors of the street changing with the progressing sunset, when an attractive, sharply dressed woman in her mid-thirties steps up to the bar. "What can I get you?"
"It's the Lord's day, young lady, nobody should be drinking."
Of all the responses that occur to me in the next few seconds, I settle on, "How about a soft drink, then?"
She smiles. "That would be nice, thank you. I'll have a Coke."
As I serve her, a cheer goes up in the Bar. I turn to the TV just in time to see my boy Jason Giambi hit a third-inning RBI single that puts the Yankees up 3-0 against the Red Sox. "Yes!" I yell, with a fist-pump that seems to alarm my newest customer a little bit. "I'm sorry, I'm just a huge fan of his," I point to the close-up shot of Jason on the screen.
She sips from her Coke, and tilts her head. "You lust after him?"
"What? Well, yes, I guess so. He's attractive. There's nothing wrong with lust. None of us would be here if it weren't for lust."
"Young lady -"
"Please, call me Debra."
"Debra, there is a world of difference between the lust you feel for a married man and the expression of love between a husband and wife that brings a new life into this world."
"I wouldn't know, I've never been married."
"You will be, and then you'll understand."
"I don't know, but I like your confidence."
"It's faith, Debra."
I smile and nod, and go to serve some other folks along the bar. With the top of the third inning over, the Yankees retake the field, with rookie Chase Wright on the mound; and a couple of minutes later, I see my new friend holding her glass out, already empty. I return to refill it.
"Debra, would you please do me a favor, and consider no longer serving alcohol on the Lord's day?"
"Well, it's how I earn my living, and I don't have an awful lot of say in what nights they schedule me to work. I have some seniority, but I prefer to save those requests for special occasions, or holidays with my family. Speaking of which, I'm Jewish, so no offense, but for me, Sunday is just Sunday."
Crack. Manny Ramirez takes Wright deep for a two-out solo homer, and it's 3-1, Yankees.
"I appreciate the respect of your frankness."
I shrug. "I try not to bring up religion with my customers, but if they bring it up first, I see no reason not to be honest."
She smiles. "This is one of the reasons that you will someday know what it feels like to truly share your life with another person."
In light of the sentiment, I let the split infinitive slide. "That's very sweet of you, and once again, I appreciate your confidence."
"Faith, Debra."
"So let's assume for a minute that you're right, and I'm destined to share my life with someone in a state of bliss. How will I know when I've met the right one?"
She rubs the ring on her left hand. "For me, it was an act of faith as much as anything else in my life has been. My husband was sure, and he asked me to let him be sure enough for both of us. I've never looked back, and he's absolutely been my rock."
Crack. J. D. Drew knocks one out of the park, too. 3-2, Yankees.
"What if I'm not willing to take that kind of leap of faith?"
"Well, you may not have to. You may be the one to ask for the leap of faith, not the one to make it. But you should also look for signs, as I do in other parts of my life."
"Signs? Like, fireworks in the sky during a first kiss? A billboard saying 'Marry Bob'?"
She laughs. "Signs are never that obvious, of course. If they were, life wouldn't be very interesting at all. But that doesn't mean the signs aren't there." She downs the rest of her second Coke, and stands up from her stool.
"Would you like another?"
"No, that's all right; I'm actually hoping to visit a few more bars today."
"Do you really believe you're going to get anybody to stop drinking because it's Sunday?"
"If they are able to see the signs," she says. "I have faith."
Crack. Mike Lowell hits a home run. 3-3.
"Well, enjoy the weather. It was a pleasure talking to you, and I hope you come back to see us again."
"Thank you, Debra." She departs into the deepening twilight.
"What was that all about?" asks Simone.
I shake my head. "Oh, nothing. Nice lady, but a little weird."
"Hey, did you see the Red Sox tied it up on three consecutive home runs? That's insane."
Diego, passing by with a case of bottles for the cooler, says, "That's not so insane - really, it happens more than you might think. Now, four home runs in a row, that would be insane - a quarter million games played in the history of major league baseball, and that has happened only four times. Dodgers did it last year, but before that, it hadn't happened since the sixties."
My phone vibrates, and since it's Gary, and things aren't terribly busy, I take it. "Hi, what's up?"
"Hi, Debra, how's your shift going?"
"Not bad, nothing too unusual. Are you okay? You just dropped me off a couple of hours ago."
"Yeah, I just wondered if I could swing by when you're done and take you out to dinner. I've -- I just wanted to say I fancy you and I didn't want to wait another few days to say it."
I smile. "That's really sweet, Gary. Of course you can pick me up when I'm done. I'll see you in a few hours."
I hang up, and make a note to look up exactly what level of emotion "fancy" implies to South African New Zealanders.
Crack. Jason Varitek this time - four batters, four homers. 4-3, Red Sox.
"Insane," says Simone, shaking her head.