The Night With The Smelly Waiter

It's raining outside. The lights in my office keep flickering on and off - it's like a David Lynch movie in here. Which David Lynch movie is it like in here? Answer - Eraserhead. Obviously. Not a hard question on my part. Blue Velvet wouldn't have been way off either,...

I was out one time in May of 1989 and it was a Saturday and there was some big silly event going on that night. And before going to the actual event, I, and 3 other kids went to dinner at 55 on the Boulevard. I think I had the duck, it doesn't matter. Anyway, what I remember is that the waiter had the worst b.o. I think I've just about ever smelled - he stank to high hell. He really did. I thought a smelly waiter at a semi-ritzy establishment was odd and my date for the occasion thought it was odd as well. Don't worry, it didn't ruin the night or anything. But it was a little off-putting, I mean this was a pretty nice joint. As I was paying the bill at the end of the meal, this horridly bad b.o. stricken waiter asks me "Anything else?" And I said "Are you a hippie?" And he said "No, I'm a graduate student." And I said "What's the difference?" And he didn't have an answer for me. Then I said to this guy, and I think it was the first time I ever told a hippie this to his/her face - "The reason I asked if you were a hippie is because hippies smell." The girl I was there with probably gave me a bit of a look - a look like " ______ please don't be an asshole." But I bet she thought it was funny at the same time. I mean that's pretty much what you're gonna get with me - highly entertaining and yet things could break bad at any moment. That was even the case 20 years ago -probably longer than 20 years ago actually.

Later that same night at the big silly event, there was a band playing and I have to say they were pretty good - reasonable covers of The Cure and Echo And The Bunnymen, etc. But I don't really dance and the girl I was there with I think wanted to dance at least one time. So, I said "OK. Cool. I need a belt first, but then we can dance." She said "Where are you going to sneak a drink at? There are parents and teachers here everywhere." I said "Why would anyone possibly care? We're not driving or anything." (We had some kind of limo for some reason and thank you to my date for that because she paid for the damn limo.) So, what I vaguely recall is walking behind some buffet table that had these dessert things on there and having a quick belt of, and I'm embarrassed to admit this, Wild Turkey. Then the band took a break and the DJ put on I Will Follow and things started to get a little blurry. A few minutes pass and my date and I make our way out onto the dance floor. And we did actually dance. And the song the band was playing has long since escaped me (which is terribly unlike me). But there is one thing I am certain of, one thing that sticks in my mind and can't escape me - and that is this: I distinctly remember feeling one thing as I was dancing with this girl for this ever so ephemeral moment - happy.

So, at one point in this same evening I've been (I'm afraid badly) describing, me and the girl I was there with found ourselves sitting on some sofa type thing outside the ballroom and some photographer comes by and takes a picture or two. Then what happened is for some reason I haven't been able to see the photograph this photographer took for like well over 10 years. I hadn't thought too much about it to be honest. I'm not a sentimental person. I have a vivid memory of certain things (I mean minute details of conversations from forever ago kind of memory, which is ironic because I forget most people I meet very easily - in fact, just the last couple of years I bet I've said "Tell me who that is again?" to Andy at least 200 times). So, I remember some stuff pretty clearly. In fact I would wager that I could describe in detail all of the time I spent with the girl who I went to this big event with. But, I'd kind of forgotten about this photo that was taken on this sofa type thing outside this ballroom in The Hyatt On Capital Square in May 1989. The one where I'm sitting there with this girl I've been talking about. The girl who I actually danced with and made me, as a result, if only for one way too brief moment - happy. Then, bam! Recently someone sent a copy of this photo to me - the damn Faceshit strikes again. So, I've been peeking at the photo here off and on today -and I'm about as depressed as I've ever been. And all I can tell people is this - don't ever get old. Oh, and the other thing is this - if you're gonna go to these big event type things where photographers wander around snapping pictures, don't go with a girl who you really like, one who might haunt your thoughts (and dare I say dreams) for years on end. Don't do that - because if you ever have the misfortune of seeing a photo of the two of you at that big event, like 20 years after the thing - you'll start to have regrets. And regrets are for losers. They really are.

A boy tries hard to be a man

His mother takes him by the hand

If he stops to think he starts to cry

Oh Why