My "Date" With Tiger (Final)
The Rector's pre-party began to wind down with the crab cakes. There was a brief round of toasts with Johnny Apple making suitably droll remarks. But, by 7:00 Tiger and I were pretty much the only guests left. It was fun being back in the old house, scene of so many RSVP parties thrown by The Rector's predecessor. And, so many Bible studies classes led by The Rector herself before she had any children, in the apartment she and her newly-wedded husband shared at the top of the old staircase.
The only thing left was to say our farewells to the host - and to Crosby who spent most of the evening well-hidden. I asked, where I could go find him and The Rector pointed to the stairs, saying, "Keep going until you can't go any further." When I reminded her that I knew the way, it was like a light bulb - more like a warm, old, gas light - was lit in her head. "Bible Study.", she repeated, "Of course." "And, tell him to stop cooking!"
The night was still young. In fact, night hadn't fallen at all. It was still bright as day and Tiger wasn't ready to go home just yet. He proposed finding someplace to play Trivia. That sounded like a fun way to spend a night cap, so while Tiger fiddled around with his smartphone, we both made our way up the old creaky stair steps. When we go to the top floor, the most singular thing about it was how empty the rooms were. The old apartment was vacant and freshly painted. But, you could smell cooking coming from somewhere. We literally just followed our noses until we came upon the kitchen.
Crosby's back was to the door. He was in deep consultation with a woman who had earlier introduced herself to everyone downstairs. She was the only person recruited for the pre-party who had arrived dressed in a professional's uniform. A perky, big-boned, woman, I believe she was the official chef. Crosby excused himself and came over to the kitchen door. I explained our plans for the evening. My recollection is that he was planning to watch a hockey game (later on, Huggy Bear would say he was watching the same game and for most of the night I assumed they were watching it together - but, that wasn't true. They watched it at separate venues)
It was also the night of a widely publicized world boxing championship and I thought it interesting that no one from St. Michael's made any mention of it.
Tiger found his Trivia contest, but, it wasn't at all where I expected it to be. It wasn't anywhere close by, but all the way downtown on 24th Street. I believe the place was called "Square 1" - which could have well described our relationship.
It was not a bad night. We spent the next three hours exploring Midtown Manhattan. It became clear pretty quickly that my purpose during the trip was to be Tiger's wing man, something I wouldn't have minded so much doing had I been prepped for it it advance. Priesthood or not, he was a young man all alone in New York City on a Saturday night. He did what came naturally - flirting with every girl who sat near us. It didn't matter whether she was escorted or not. He played his charm like it was found money. In fact, it was better than money. It was a naturally occurring, renewable resource.
By 10:00 I was beginning to feel as if we were pushing our luck. I'd been drinking since six in the evening, on something approaching an empty stomach. And we were far away from my familiar stomping ground, the Village going to places neither of us had been to before. I couldn't help but feel it was only a matter of time before we encountered some rough trade in one of these "Bridge and Tunnel" bars.
So, when we couldn't find a kareoke place to go to, I begged off and Tiger walked me to the nearest subway station.
The only thing left was to say our farewells to the host - and to Crosby who spent most of the evening well-hidden. I asked, where I could go find him and The Rector pointed to the stairs, saying, "Keep going until you can't go any further." When I reminded her that I knew the way, it was like a light bulb - more like a warm, old, gas light - was lit in her head. "Bible Study.", she repeated, "Of course." "And, tell him to stop cooking!"
The night was still young. In fact, night hadn't fallen at all. It was still bright as day and Tiger wasn't ready to go home just yet. He proposed finding someplace to play Trivia. That sounded like a fun way to spend a night cap, so while Tiger fiddled around with his smartphone, we both made our way up the old creaky stair steps. When we go to the top floor, the most singular thing about it was how empty the rooms were. The old apartment was vacant and freshly painted. But, you could smell cooking coming from somewhere. We literally just followed our noses until we came upon the kitchen.
Crosby's back was to the door. He was in deep consultation with a woman who had earlier introduced herself to everyone downstairs. She was the only person recruited for the pre-party who had arrived dressed in a professional's uniform. A perky, big-boned, woman, I believe she was the official chef. Crosby excused himself and came over to the kitchen door. I explained our plans for the evening. My recollection is that he was planning to watch a hockey game (later on, Huggy Bear would say he was watching the same game and for most of the night I assumed they were watching it together - but, that wasn't true. They watched it at separate venues)
It was also the night of a widely publicized world boxing championship and I thought it interesting that no one from St. Michael's made any mention of it.
Tiger found his Trivia contest, but, it wasn't at all where I expected it to be. It wasn't anywhere close by, but all the way downtown on 24th Street. I believe the place was called "Square 1" - which could have well described our relationship.
It was not a bad night. We spent the next three hours exploring Midtown Manhattan. It became clear pretty quickly that my purpose during the trip was to be Tiger's wing man, something I wouldn't have minded so much doing had I been prepped for it it advance. Priesthood or not, he was a young man all alone in New York City on a Saturday night. He did what came naturally - flirting with every girl who sat near us. It didn't matter whether she was escorted or not. He played his charm like it was found money. In fact, it was better than money. It was a naturally occurring, renewable resource.
By 10:00 I was beginning to feel as if we were pushing our luck. I'd been drinking since six in the evening, on something approaching an empty stomach. And we were far away from my familiar stomping ground, the Village going to places neither of us had been to before. I couldn't help but feel it was only a matter of time before we encountered some rough trade in one of these "Bridge and Tunnel" bars.
So, when we couldn't find a kareoke place to go to, I begged off and Tiger walked me to the nearest subway station.