Working at the club, wonderful musicians come in on a regular basis, either to perform there or sit in the audience and have me bring them over-priced martinis. Last night was no exception. The performer was a consummate professional who has been in the business for a million years. She's honestly one of the most amazing live performers I have ever seen and the fact that she is 84 years old makes it all that more impressive. I would tell you her name, but then it would be too easy to look her up and see where she performed last night and the next thing you know, people would figure out where I work and Springs1 would show up at my job to bludgeon me with an empty bottle of Ranch dressing. Anyway, this singer has been around and she holds the record for the most appearances on the Johnny Carson Show. (For those of you who don't know who Carson was, Google it...) Anyhoo, whenever she sings at the club, famous people sit in my station.
- Kim Cattrall from Sex and the City. She was friendly, gorgeous, sexy and had the nicest smile ever. She looked even prettier than she does when I see her on television. It was a pleasure.
- Lou Reed. Yes, this Lou Reed. I saw him and I was like, "What the fuck is Lou fucking Reed doing here? Dayum. That shit is crazy."
- Linda Lavin!!
After the performance is over, I keep my eye on her for just the right moment to approach her. I hate being that needy fan, but I don't want to regret not telling her how much her show had inspired me. As she slowly inches towards the exit, I see her constantly being stopped by other people. I don't want to join that queue, but it needs to happen. As her hand is on the door to leave, I take my chance.
"Excuse me, Ms. Lavin? I hate to bother you but I must tell you that I saw your cabaret a few months ago and I truly loved it. I just wanted you to know that."
I think my voice is an octave higher than normal which is saying a lot for me since whenever I am on the phone with someone, they always call me "ma'am."
"Oh, thank you, that's very nice," she says.
Oh my God, Linda Lavin is talking to me. Linda Lavin is talking to me. This is it. I have peaked.
"I wrote a story about it and posted it on my blog, The Bitchy Waiter."
Oh my God, am I really pimping out my blog to Linda Lavin? Yes. Yes, I am.
At this point, it gets a little fuzzy. Ms. Lavin's eyes light up with recognition.
"Was that you??" she asks as she grabs my hand.
Oh my God, Linda Lavin is holding my hand. Linda freakin' Lavin is holding my sweaty hand. I should have washed them before I came to talk to her because I think they might be sticky. I am about to pass out right here with a stack of check presenters in my arms and credit cards are going to go all over the place but I don't care because Linda Lavin is holding my freaking hand!
"I read that story!" she continues. "I loved it. "You're a very good writer. Thank you."
Oh my God, that's it. I'm done. Linda Lavin didn't just call me a writer, she called me a good writer. Someone hold me, because I am about to fall over and head right up to Jesus. Jesus, look at the menu because I am on my way to take your order and get you a basket of bread, here I come!
I make a conscious decision to let go of her hand so I don't accidentally break her fingers off and stuff them in my apron as mementos.
"Thank you, very much. You just made my night. It's nice to meet you," I tell her.
"It's nice to meet you too," she says.
And with that, Linda Lavin floats off out of my life but will forever be in my memory.
It was a good night to be a waiter. A good night indeed. Sometimes it's nice to realize that the apron I wear allows me moments like the one I had last night. Thank you, apron. And thank you, Linda Lavin.
By the way, Kim Cattrall had a whiskey sour and Lou Reed enjoyed an O'Douls.
Click here to follow The Bitchy Waiter on Twitter.
Click here to find The Bitchy Waiter on Facebook.