“It’s my 30th birthday…” said Rachel, the sister in law of the bartender. Rachel is from Charlotte, South Carolina. “Happy birthday Rachel.” “thank you. It feels different being 30 and all…”
“30’s nothing” I tell her and ask her and her friend to guess my age.
“42”. That was nice to hear and their faces dropped when I told them that I was 50. They didn’t ask for proof so they could think I was putting them on, they were tipsy and celebratory.
I am old enough to be the father of several of these twenty somethings. It’s humorous.
They’re not like Juan though. Juan does his own thing and doesn’t care what other people think mostly.
I wrote ‘mostly’, since no matter what, people do care what others think of them.
Juan doesn’t even give a shit about what I think of him. Off to Leonardo and the Principal Crawfish for him it is.
I worked Saturday night and Rand came by and RoDa was managing so that made for a good night. It was busy enough and as usual the stage fright or anxiety I get before going to work dissipated. It was a good staff and fairly crowded. At one point as I was winding my way through the crowd (I mangled the nail on my left hand and needed to get nail clippers from my bag) I tried to maneuver my way around a short woman. She was trying to maneuver out of my way and I wound up grabbing her breast.
I immediately apologized and she accepted the apology, knowing that it was purely an accident. I’m sure I blushed and when I returned to my spot on the floor, I mentioned to RoDa and Rand that I just grabbed a woman’s breast and that it felt like a bag of sand. Rand got the joke immediately and explained to RoDa that it was a line from the 40 Year Old Virgin. For me it was the first and probably last time I’ve ever touched a woman’s breast. I’m pretty sure I was bottle fed when I was a baby so I didn’t even see my mother’s breasts at feeding time.
I worked the whole shift and came home and tried watching Saturday Night Live with Melissa McCarthy as the host. It looked funny and decided to hold off from watching it so I could see it with Bill and or, Juan. Once again I slept really well and woke up refreshed. Bill was driving from Atlantic City and after that headed to check in on his mother. My anxiety kicked in again as the day progressed, I ran a few errands but mainly stayed indoors until it was time to go.
I was scheduled to work at 6:00 so I had dinner around 5:00. I walked up Washington Street and started seating people almost immediately after getting to Maxwell’s. There is a Sunday evening special which goes from 5:00 to 8:00 and there were a few families taking advantage of the three course meal plan. Bands were scheduled in the back room and the restaurant was busy but not excessively busy. Allie stopped by for dinner with his friend Kevin. Allie is an old friend from Maxwell’s and it was good to see him, albeit worrisome since he was walking with a cane.
And Allie was let go from his job last week as well. He’s older than Bill and myself, but has a steadier head on his shoulders so he’s probably prepared for this type of thing. Bob Bert also came in for dinner and it was cool to have a few words with him. I actually had a dream that had Bob Bert on a beach, a few feet away from Brian Jones and Keith Richards. I told Bob about that and he said it would have been cool if it were true. But Brian Jones died in 1969 and Bob being a couple of years older than me would have been an adolescent then. Of course I am reading too much into that.
Bob left and soon Allie and Kevin did too. I made friends with a German couple who were there to see some American rock and roll. Nice couple, they were headed to Florida for the rest of their holiday and enjoyed Maxwell’s very much. I consider myself the cruise director onboard the SS Maxwell’s, perhaps from watching Love Boat too many times when I was growing up- but I feel so Lauren Tewes when I am at the door.
Today was the day that spring finally arrived and after doing laundry, I took a walk around Hoboken, winding up by the river where I sat and continued reading ‘Across the Great Divide’, Barney Hoskyns book about the Band. I don’t really care for the band, I just enjoy Barney’s writing. It has gotten me to listen to their music, primarily their well-known songs, which is better than nothing I suppose.