Gasping for Air

Two nights have come and gone and I can now calmly say I have come to the next important decision in my journey.

It was my first night on the floor in the lounge. I would be cocktailing on my own for the first time. I scurried across 31st Ave at 6:30 to the place that decided to give me a chance... My dad had sent me a brand new wine key, the best of the best, for good luck and I had my 25th anniversary pen in hand to remind me how I got here. I was all set and I was feeling seriously sick to my stomach. How could I be so nervous to serve alcohol? I tried so hard to pretend I was back in A-616 hosting one of my parties...

The night began slow, as usual. I was on my own in the entire lounge because of 3 call-ins. I successfully managed my one table, carrying my tray, smiling, chatting, serving, using the computer, and actually having a bit of fun. It wasn't a big sparkly dress and a tiara, but it was something.

When midnight rolled around, all hell broke loose. I began to panic. Is it hot in here??? I was slammed with a full lounge and one table of 25 some-odd students all ordering individual drinks. I ran around from table to table trying to keep the orders straight in my head. I felt like I was choking and GASPING FOR AIR!!! The lounge was finally split between me and one other girl. My tables kept me on my toes. I barely had a chance to spit out the gum I had been chewing for the last 7 hours. After a few wrong inputs, and spillage on a patron, and a spiky heel dug into the top of my bare foot, I finished the night folding napkins and helping to count and divide tips. I left at 5:02 am in the pouring rain to run across the street to my bed that I so desired.
* * * * * * * * *
The next day, I returned to the familiar hostess desk. I couldn't deny I was slightly relieved to be in the protective hostess bubble again after my cocktailing debut. The night had an odd air about it. Whether it was the impending thunderstorms, or the fact that one of the owners was in one of his most fowl moods, I don't know. Even my partner could feel the tension in the air.... Our boss took over the desk unexpectedly, ordering us both to do various tasks... It was an odd Saturday. We made it through the majority of the night with few bumps....until 2 am came.

I was told by my GM to do one thing, and the owner to do another. A perfect example of "too many cooks in the kitchen". Trying to satisfy both, I asked the GM to take over my current task while I briefly did the other, and he agreed. When I returned to relieve him, I was greeted by the fowl owner who proceeded to "rip me a new one". As he yelled at me, I went inside my head and couldn't help but wonder, "What the f&^% am I doing in this stupid F&^%ing restaurant anyway?" I guess this is what you get from an "under-the-table/no break" job. All I could imagine were my amazing managers in the land of the rising sun who would never raise their voice, even in a confrontational situation. There was such an apparent lack of respect and it disgusted me. When he was through, I ran to the bathroom and began to cry. I felt as though I couldn't breathe...I was GASPING FOR AIR... and I looked at myself in the mirror and hated the Mandy I saw. I didn't hate the girl, I just hated the situation I had put her in... It was in that one moment of reflection, that I decided and promised that girl it was over. I would quit my job.

With one hour left, I finished my duties as the hostess extraordinaire with tears in my eyes, makeup on my cheeks, as the drunk Astorians stumbled out of the establishment.... . There really was no way to stop it at this point.... I cried as if my eyes needed to empty all the water from my body....
* * * * * * *
If New York were a person, it would be the bully that wouldn't leave you alone in grade school, but secretly had a crush on.... It would be the one cocktail that would drive you to the point of vomiting, but that you wanted so badly. It would be the dog that was so cute you insisted on petting it, but then bit your hand..... but as easy as it is to see it in these lights, I prefer to see New York as the mountain that takes a lot of courage and strength to climb, but when you do, the view from the top makes it all worth it in the end. I know I am going to get there, even if I am GASPING FOR AIR. -M

The Unthinkable

It has finally happened. What we NEVER EVER thought could possibly happen. The Karaoke Queen has met the self proclaimed Karaoke Champion.

It happened late after work. It was 3 am, and my new friend and I decided that late night consumption of New York style pizza was a necessity. We walked a block down Steinway to the "other" Broadway. Taxis and private cars shuttled the intoxicated home, as we approached the joint on this Saturday night now turned Sunday morning.

We grabbed our super-sized slices of cheese pizza and sat around the corner from the register for some privacy to discuss what girls need to talk about at 3 am after a long night and week of barely surviving the city. About halfway through the slice, two guys walked between our table and the tables surrounding us in the rear of the joint. One was carrying a guitar case and bid us a good evening. He told us he was going to serenade us.

Great. A serenade at 3ish in the morning from a greasy, long-haired man when all we ever wanted was a greasy piece of pizza and a gossip sesh of two commiserating girls trying to sty afloat in NYC. Well, being a performer, I had to give the guy some credit. He must really love his music to play beyond his shift for two girls scarfing down pizza in a dirty Astoria pizza joint.

I turned to him and listened intently, and decided a beer was a perfect partner to me in this most unexpected of situations. I watched him play his guitar with such conviction. He began to perspire, and with his eyes closed he sang with such passion, I could only admire his devotion to this free performance. He was far from my favorite voice, but there was something about the way that he delivered the song that made me want to hear more.

We clapped for his song, and after some idle chatter, I came to find out he was a "Karaoke Champion". I now knew why I felt a kindred connection to this strange guitar man. Fate had brought the Karaoke Champion to the Karaoke Queen in the late night and early morning of a pizza joint in Queens...

This was yet another moment in my life where I had to take a mental picture. We decided to stay for a few more songs. The owner of the joint, also a musician, shared some music as he borrowed the guitar and the strange guitar man used the table as a drum set.

As we finished our pizza, and they finished their song, we gathered our things and walked out of the joint and said goodbye. Dawn began to fill the sky and I walked home to 31st ave. I was disappointed that my night's sleep was shortened, but at the same time, I was so thankful for the encounter. There really is never a dull moment.-M

Unknown World

She woke up especially thirsty. It could have been the 2 am homemade pizza she ate before bed with her bottle of light beer, or the general lack of water with which her body had been deprived over the weeks. Slightly sore from dragging her groceries home 3 blocks the day before, she rubbed her shoulders to find relief and wished she had someone there to do it for her. The residual emotions from her strange dreams put her in a distracted mood. She grabbed the nearly empty water bottle that had tipped over the night before as she had stumbled to bed, rubbed her eyes and tried to remember what her dreams had been about. She flopped back into her disorderly bed, and stared at the blank ceiling. Flashes of her dream were playing back in her mind like a disjointed slide show.

She saw darkness. She saw people gathered around a car. She remembered the need to evacuate. She remembered that a storm was coming, a very large storm. She remembered being very afraid.

As she kicked the sheets and comforter off of her, she staggered to the coffee maker. She decided to get up, knowing full well her body desired more sleep. But she didn't want to go back into the nightmare.

As she hastily scooped her breakfast blend into the filter, she wondered why her dreams were so constantly filled with fearful moments and feelings? Where were the amazing dreams in which she did not want to wake? What could these nightmares be trying to tell her? What could they possibly signify?

She ate her cereal and drank her artificially sweetened coffee as the memories of her dream slipped away into her subconscious like a chest sinking to the bottom of a dark and deep sea. It was just another one of her bad dreams, and soon she would forget about it, just like all of the others.

But somewhere, deep inside of her, she wondered whether all of these twisted stories and experiences were memories from another life? Were they actual experiences her soul had once lived through? Were they messages from a divine source? Or were they merely just a collection of the everyday exposures of the modern world strung into a story that seemingly made no sense?

She knew her questions would never find their answers. But she hoped that tonight, there would be a different story...a different dream... She looked forward to the unknown world that awaited her. -M

Progress?

Left Tokyo...Moved to New York...found an apartment...acquired a stalker - ditched a stalker...found a job...got a coffee maker along with all of my belongings that were in storage in California...told wine-buying pinky grabber how I felt and shut that door... had a great night with a hot Italian bartender...who further commissioned me for a "trisome" with a hot blonde (declined the invitation)...took new head shots...started to study Pilates on the reformer...got cable TV...installed a custom designed pantry for my closet...installed faux wooden blinds...had my NY debut singing karaoke in front of drunk Broadway performers...went on my first blind date...got promoted...chopped my hair...

What on Earth could be next?

I really hope it involves singing, dancing, and or acting.... since that is why I am here! I miss you all and hope you are living fabulously....-M

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

I was brutally reminded today that actions speak louder than words. My ears are still ringing....

Wine-buying pinky-grabber decided blogs ago to jump off the face of the earth.... I guess my pinky didn't make that much of an impression. In my frustration, I kept him off the face of the earth with no chance of rescue or return be deleting him from my life. In true facebook-stalking fashion, he re-requested me, and it was in this instant that I decided to write him a message on how I truly felt... so he called to tell me why....

Now, my sister has always told me... "Don't ask why. Do you really want to hear the reasons? Is it going to make you feel any better?" Well, when you don't know the reasons, you always assume that hearing them is going to make you feel better. And perhaps, you imagine that he won't give reasons... he'll actually say he didn't realize you were feeling that way and ask you out again!!!

The fact that he wasn't calling me or asking me out should have been a serious indication.... Did I really need to hear why? I guess I did, otherwise I wouldn't have written him an email....

I know the true reason I was hanging on to WBPG.... he is HOT. But there is so much more to an amazing man than his physical attributes. I want to admire him for everything he does and has done and wants to do. I want him to want to call me, and grab my pinky when I drink wine (or tea). I want him to be attractive, of course.... but attractive can come in more than just a physical package. Sense of humor, intelligence, respect, and honesty can all contribute to attraction. I am completely aware that my focus with men needs a serious shift..... Otherwise, I may be in for a ton of let downs and guys going M.I.A. from Earth....

I know there is someone out there for me... and I cannot wait for him to truly appreciate my useless pinky, incessant singing and dancing, my affinity for wine and cheese, my fascination of the paranormal, my tendency to cry when emotional or watching a sad movie, my amazing family, my need to own a Maltese puppy, and my crazy dreams of success in New York City....-M