A Curious Story.....
I wanted to write this before it got away: In 1986, we had a tremendous snowstorm. It was one of those storms which shut the city down completely. Downtown Washington DC becomes this gregarious small town suddenly after such storms. People have to walk from place to place and the 19th century townhouses are given this Currier and Ives touch, as long as you can blot out all traces of the succeeding centuries. In honor of this abrupt jolt into the 19th century, everyone feels the need to be gregarious.
After this particular storm, my then-husband and I went to this bar where artsie types hung out called Herb's on P St. for brunch. The pace was jam-packed with snowbound folks who were desperate not to be trapped in apartments. The waiters consequently seated everyone next to one another, so there wasn't the traditional space amongst people that we have in DC while dining. The couple we were seated next to was a mixed race couple about 20 years older than we were at the time. I could tell that the couple really was not 'together' except for maybe last night. The white woman, who looked like a status conscious social climber, kept on showing off her African American companion to all of her friends. Her male companion looked visibly uncomfortable. I felt sorry for the guy, but I didn't know why this society hag and her friends were making such a big fuss over him. I'd seen better looking guys in the city, for sure. When a man is black, I find him better looking if he has darker skin than this man had. Not that the man was bad looking, mind you. He just looked really tired.
When I tried to talk with him, he rebuffed me.
After our meal, my then-husband told me that the man was Ed Bradley. Only I could eat an entire meal and not recognize Ed Bradley. And Ed Bradley had been mightily annoyed that I had not recognized him. Then again, Ed Bradley was annoyed that he was trapped with this society hag who should've been a one night stand and he was annoyed that he was this hag's boudoir trophy that she was showing off to her equally hag-like female friends. I'm sure that he couldn't wait until the airport opened and he could fly on the hell back to New York City.
My purpose for writing this is not to disrespect the late Ed Bradley. No one mentioned in this story comes off looking very well. But Mr. Bradley comes off looking a lot less saintly than the person that the obituaries eulogized. However, my brief portrait of Mr. Bradley makes him more interesting and more human.
After this particular storm, my then-husband and I went to this bar where artsie types hung out called Herb's on P St. for brunch. The pace was jam-packed with snowbound folks who were desperate not to be trapped in apartments. The waiters consequently seated everyone next to one another, so there wasn't the traditional space amongst people that we have in DC while dining. The couple we were seated next to was a mixed race couple about 20 years older than we were at the time. I could tell that the couple really was not 'together' except for maybe last night. The white woman, who looked like a status conscious social climber, kept on showing off her African American companion to all of her friends. Her male companion looked visibly uncomfortable. I felt sorry for the guy, but I didn't know why this society hag and her friends were making such a big fuss over him. I'd seen better looking guys in the city, for sure. When a man is black, I find him better looking if he has darker skin than this man had. Not that the man was bad looking, mind you. He just looked really tired.
When I tried to talk with him, he rebuffed me.
After our meal, my then-husband told me that the man was Ed Bradley. Only I could eat an entire meal and not recognize Ed Bradley. And Ed Bradley had been mightily annoyed that I had not recognized him. Then again, Ed Bradley was annoyed that he was trapped with this society hag who should've been a one night stand and he was annoyed that he was this hag's boudoir trophy that she was showing off to her equally hag-like female friends. I'm sure that he couldn't wait until the airport opened and he could fly on the hell back to New York City.
My purpose for writing this is not to disrespect the late Ed Bradley. No one mentioned in this story comes off looking very well. But Mr. Bradley comes off looking a lot less saintly than the person that the obituaries eulogized. However, my brief portrait of Mr. Bradley makes him more interesting and more human.