I've been to a lot of bars. I have swallowed scotch in Tiki Bars on Maui; scarfed Chevis at the Ritz in San Francisco; and dealt with filthy glasses at the Watering Hole in New Braunfels. The amenities vary from a valet standing by to offer a warm hand-towel all the way to a scoop of ice resting in the urinal.
The people that I have met in these bars range from an anarchist attorney...to a born-again hooker...to a stock-broker who was pitching Enron stock...and he got a promotion.
People, I learned long ago, are self-centered. They love talking about themselves, their kids and their jobs. Allow them to do so and you will found a basis for a cordial relationship. Be an attentive listener.
One Friday night I met a man we shall call Chaz. Every Friday, I would travel to the Houston-Galveston market to do business; on Friday evenings I would spend 2 or 3 hours at Perry's Steakhouse before driving back to Austin. Perry's is a chain of restaurants in the greater Houston area. They all have a stylish bar with a small jazz combo and a fine dining menu. The quality of the food and wine does not match their inflated prices, however. But I liked the place; the guys in the band became friends and the bar-tenders made sure that I got some free drinks whenever I was there...for which I tipped them generously.
The evening that I met Chaz, I arrived at the bar shortly before 6; the band guys came over for a short visit before their first set which always began at 6:30. After they began their set, I discovered I was alone at the bar except for a tall man seated 2 seats down from me. He was gray and distinguished-looking with the ram-rod posture of a military man. Having noticed him at the bar a couple of times before, I smiled and nodded and he returned the gesture.
Over the next few hours we introduced ourselves and began talking. The bar stayed empty, rare for a Friday night so we talked uninterrupted except for when the band took their breaks. I introduced Chaz to the band guys and we continued talking. During our time that night, I learned he was a graduate of Annapolis, had been a fighter pilot, had taken early retirement, was operating an international shipping concern and had been divorced twice. He confided that he was trying to hire one of the bar-tenders who had just graduated the University of Houston. I stood to go and told Chaz that I was in town every Friday and hoped to see him again.
The next Friday, there was Chaz waiting at the bar, saving me a seat. It was harder to speak as the bar was crowded, but we still found things to talk and laugh about. He had hired the bar-tender and said he was now in training.
Over the next several weeks, we continued our serial conversation. Chaz became more verbose, I noticed, when he had more than 3 or 4 drinks. He also became very profane...loudly profane.
I skipped going to the coast the next week-a holiday weekend-but the following week I walked into Perry's to find no Chaz. But the bar-tender he had hired was there, once again on the working-end of the bar. He told me things didn't work out and from the set of his usually pleasant expression, I could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it.
The next Friday again found no Chaz, but one of my band-buddies told me that Howard, the general manager of that Perry's, has kicked Chaz out for arguing about his bar tab. Howard was the perfect hospitality manager: deferential and discrete, friendly and very willing to please. But before I could ask him what happened, Howard came to me and told me what had happened: Chaz had become abusive to the bar-tender (his former employee) and then to Howard himself.
The following Friday, to my surprise, found Chaz on his usual stool, smiling sheepishly and waving me over. Shaking hands with me, he had kissed Howard's ring and swore to be a good boy henceforth. He told me he was thinking of selling his business.
The next week I walked into the bar and found Chaz sitting next to a very, very pretty woman, about half his age who he introduced as is wife, Carrie. She was sexy and smart and we passed a pleasant evening together.
I skipped the next week, but the subsequent week when I walked into the bar, Howard followed me to my seat. He told me he had to kick Chaz out again: this time for accosting a lady at the bar. My band-buddies told me it was a pretty ugly scene-Chaz left before the police arrived...
Several weeks later I arrived at the bar to find that the bar-tender (Chaz's former employee) was on duty. He told me that he was in grad school. I bit my tongue and asked what had happened between him and Chaz. No hesitation: "Chaz is a phony and his company is some sort of f___g scam!"
Months pass, as they tend to do and then, one night, as I am ready to tab out, 3 very attractive women enter the bar. One of them I recognize as Carrie, Chaz's wife. As she passes me, I ask her how Chaz is. She looks right through me and keeps on walking with her friends. I ordered some coffee to go and tabbed out. I was waving so-long to my band-buddies when there was a light tap on my forearm. It was Carrie. "Let's go outside for a smoke," she said. We went outside to the patio. "Look,"she said,"it was the easiest $300. I ever made, but I'm not that jerk's wife...he hired me...he said to show all of those clowns at Perry's...well, you know." We smoked without another word. She reached out and patted my cheek and handed me a business card. It said:" CARRIE...for a discrete good time" and of course it had a phone number which I won't pass on.
The drive back to Austin that night seemed to take no time at all.
I didn't go back to Perry's for several weeks.
No one ever heard another word about Chaz.
No comments:
Post a Comment