Jacob

I got a call from New York yesterday. I hate telephone calls, but there are always a few names that, when displayed, cause a little rush in me. Jacob is one of them. He read the confused post of two days ago and reminded me that there is little possibility of taking life seriously in a town where briefcase-carrying people are wearing flip flops and shorts.

It was way back in 2002 when an underling came to me and said, "There's someone looking for a job." I hate this sort of thing, but always make the effort to be gracious--at least for ten seconds. It usually takes me about that much time to determine whether a person full of shit or not.

I walked into the room, squinted, and saw a striking young man with blue eyes and blonde hair cut in a Dutch Boy shape. We had a very, very brief conversation, I asked him to return the next day, and turned to the underling and muttered, "Hired". In a town that bogs down in the heavy, humid air, Jacob was a fresh breeze from California. More than that, he was intelligent (a
rarity here), well-traveled (a rarity here), and completing his degree by attending UM.

Jacob was the new, star employee and rapidly rose through the ranks without any help from me. Of course, I provided a little protection from the vipers who saw an upstart impeding their own way up the staircase, but he held his own. I think now that he might have appeared a little like Eve Harrington to those other employees, but who cared.

I was always lecturing Jacob about getting involved with the wrong crowd; there is the "wrong" crowd that's fun and the "wrong" crowd that's wrong. One day he showed up at my doorstep with his bags; his crazy roommate had crossed the line, Jacob had moved out, and he was now being stalked. To this day Jacob refers to this period as "...the time I lived in the rafters of your villa and looked down upon debauchery." I like to refer to it as the time he lived in a spacious, second floor bedroom with lovely north and east views and when he always shared the same champagne from the same slipper. He was the boy in the leather mask who clung to the breast of The Blood Countess at Gerry Kelly's memorable 2002 costume ball and, after an all-too-brief year in Miami, Jacob returned to finish his studies in Spain.

Now Jacob is the general manager of a posh, new restaurant in New York and we speak every week about business, people, wine tasting, drag queens, celebrity sightings, and dogs that can dance the tango. I always get a rush when "Jacob"is displayed on the phone.