mr. mxylplyx

I'm at that big Chinese restaurant again, on Queens Blvd., across the street from the big movie theater. It doesn't really exist, this place, and that theater, that also don't exist, but I suspect somewhere in the back of my mind it is the same one that I've been to many times before, in those weird memories that don't quite add up right. I'm at work again. This is the big place that Bill moved to with the new Outback staff, where that asshole Doug had branched out to. It's a big Chinese theatre-style restaurant, with live shows on stage next to the big upscale-looking bar, and tons of big party style seating and smaller private tables up front, just like that place in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I've been working here for a while now, ever since I left Outback, under some duress. I'm putting things back together here, n' a lot of the old staff is here, both from the Outback and The Ol' Slaughtered Lamb Pub, and Jekyll & Hyde too. But they're all mixed in with a bunch of new faces that I've never seen before.

It's funny, their upstairs here looks like a bigger, fancier version of the upstairs bar at Jekyll & Hyde, in fact a cross between the downtown restaurant and the uptown club. N' Garfield is here, and Pete, and even Hobbes, still workin' the bar (weren't you a manager once buddy?). Will even comes in every now and then, even though he doesn't work here, just like he used to do at The Lamb, after he quit and started working in TV. He just drops by to say what's up to the old gang, and drop some knowledge on ol' Fubu, who is still trying to figure out what he's going to do with his life. He ain't doin' shit.

But for now I'm content here, ya know? Content to be around a few familiar faces, and trying to get adjusted to my new surroundings, to the bigger place, and make it through, while I struggle to come up again, to gain some solid ground, while I try to rebuild my life, even though I don't know what it is I'm building towards, and what I'm really gonna do. I'm trying to keep my head above water, and I don't wanna be back out, in the street, in the dark, in the cold. I've got a toe hold here. It isn't much, I'm still bustin' my ass, doin' nothin', but it's a home. A new home anyway, an imperfect hodgepodge of broken relationships, broken places that I thought were home, but at least I've got something here.

I'm not out in the cold. But I'll tell ya, all this moving around has made me realize something. This isn't it for me anymore. This isn't the place for me. I don't wanna be like Troy, 35 years old, pushing 50, a strung out, burnt out, journeyman waiter. Nothing but the place, nothing but the fuckin' place, and the place is just temporary, it ain't even his. It's not even going to last while it lasts, it's always changing. New faces, new faces, and after 3 years, you're the old man on the block. Ya get dumped, go to a new place. Now you're the newbie again. A newbie with experience sure, a salty old dog, got loads of friends, experience, a few connections...got nothing. Nothing but a new place, a new beginning, starting over again at square fucking one.

Even G's here now, I can't believe it. It's great ta see the salty old bastard, even if it is like this. He was my boss, my pal, now he's an underling in this machine, but whatever, at least he's somewhere now. After he got canned from Jekyll, he was no where, not even his wife and kid saw him. Last I heard he had taken off for Florida, or was breaking legs in New Rochelle, or gone to Vegas to work the casinos, but he was nowhere. He was just gone. We had a lot of good times when he used to run the crew, bastard though he was. Good times. We had a real crew then, tight, loyal. Everybody's gone. Scattered to the four winds by lightning. A fucking bolt ripped apart the bar, and it never again recovered. It even got me.

So G's here now, workin' for Bill. Underling, bar manager, not even. He's a fucking slave again, unhappy like he used to be, like before he ran the crew, when he had to lie cheat, steal, and kiss ass ta make his way to the top. He ain't the same. He's used up. Even Kenny in the kitchen is used up, and Garcia keeps tellin' me what the hell I'm still doin' here, still workin' for this shit, for this nothin'. But it has its good times, good moments, that make it OK. Make the time fly by. Sometimes ya don't even notice that your standing still.

I talk about it a lot now with G. What we're still doin here'. How're we gonna come out on top, ever? Ain't no comin' out on top. Just hustlin', every day, make your money and drink yer drinks, and go home, to your apartment. Do it all again tomorrow. Till yer used up. Then you die.

I think it's time for a change G. We keep at this, and keep at this, 'cuz we don't know anything else to do. What else am I gonna do, he says. This is it. Or break legs. But when i get in with those guys, they suck me down. I'm freer here, even though I'm not. Well this ain't free G, I says, this ain't what it's all about. You're looking empty man, empty as I'm startin ta feel. I'm gettin old before my time, even with all of the good times, even with the craziness. The craziness is always the fuckin' same, and in fact, it aint even as good as it used ta be. Is that all we're workin' for? Is that what we're doin' here? Ta act like the party is gonna go on forever? We're killin' ourselves man. We're gonna die alone, and with nothin'. With nothin'. Why don't you go back to your wife and daughter man. I've missed ya man, but this isn't where it's at. If Rachel hadn't gotten pregnant, if she would've left her man, that's where I'd be. Not here man.

I see ya gearin' up ta be the same old way. We're just doin' all the same old things, with people who ain't even family, just tryin' ta hold on to what got smashed. Tess is gone man. Jose's gone. Anne Marie. Rachel. The whole crew from Polyesters is gone. Down the Hatch watched us go, and now the sun has set on all of that too. This is just a job now man. I love all you guys, I'm glad a few of you are here, but I don't know what I'm doin' here anymore. I don't know why this is all we got. It ain't nothin' anymore. It ain't mine. It's a restaurant. I'm goin' home ta think about shit man. You should do the same. Think about your wife and daughter old man!

But G just keeps on tallyin' up the bar totals, schemin' on the ways he's gonna cut corners, scream on the waiters, save the bar money, get noticed, and take over again, so he can run drinking and cocaine parties and gambling tournaments out the new spot again. So he can build a new crew. But this place is like the last place. It ain't his. It's Bill's. In fact it ain't even Bill's, it's corporate.

Sure, we can play king of the castle while Bill's away, while the masters let us. And then one day, it's gonna get destroyed. They're gonna flip on the sunlight, turn up the blinds, and chase every last one of us outta here. You don't own nothin' G. And none of us got nothin'. Good times, paid for at a high price. Revolvin' in circles for years, chasin' a good fuckin' time. I'm goin' home man, goin' home. I got ta think about something else for my life.

I get outside, leave G at the bar, still there looking over the sales. It's windy and still dark. The first gleams of sunlight are startin' to peep over the horizon, and I grab my coat and pull it close. I'm lookin down, and inside, as I walk over to my car, parked in front of the meters. They're all expired, and morning's on the rise. It's so chilly.

I realize something as I'm walking over. G never did come to work for Bill; he didn't even have a Chinese retaurant. In fact, when G disappeared, I never saw him again. I never saw most of those people ever again, and I never had that conversation with G. But I did have it, I had it years ago, because I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember workin' in this place, n' feelin' just like I felt tonight. I was there. I know I was. But if all this wasn't real, who was I talkin' to? I realize that I made this decision long ago, a long, long time its seems, years longer mentally than it's even been. N' I've got somewhere ta go again. Something ta break away from. That chill is moving back up my spine as I realize what it is that I'm facing. What the implications are of what I decided long ago. It's a harder road to hoe than I ever expected, more than I ever bargained for, and it scares the living crap outta me. Damn! The good times come snapping back at me from the distance, rising up in one last beatific hurrah!

And then I remember this feeling. This feeling I had that night, that night that never happened, but that was the realest night of my life. The night I left G in the bar. And I get in my car and drive away. I'm never coming back to this place again. I've got a journey to go on, and at the end of it, I'm gonna build my own home. Goddamnit, I'm not gonna waste the rest of my life pretending that the good times are free, and I'm not gonna spend it clinging to a past that I can't put back together again. I can't say to myself any longer that the fun things and good times don't eventually fall apart. No. This is it.