I've moved the story along thanks to feedback from friends and my writing class.
Between my daily walks around the city and my apartment on the 12th floor of the Taft building, I have the perfect lens to watch life go by. While I‘m enamored with the city any time of the year, it is especially dreamy on fall days like today. Ancient elm trees afire with leaves of red, orange and gold line the boulevards and make a striking contrast to the Gothic buildings surrounding the city green. Days are crisp, a warm kiss of summer brushing up against the cozy chill of winter. Fall softens people. Fall speaks of promise.
Scholars,
dreamers and hooligans all call this place home, and I couldn’t think of living
anywhere else but the center of it all, in a high-rise mere steps from the city
green. In one way or another, I’ve been engrained in the comings and goings of
folks here for the past 25 years. Between my keen eye for observation and natural
talents bestowed upon me by The Universe, I’ve been able to refine my insight
into people and have thrived through my ability to connect with others. Lots of
time on public transportation along with a knack for waiting table has also helped
me hone my people skills. For many years now, I grab the bus and trundle down
to the Cape Codder to waitress every Thursday and Saturday evening. My friends
wonder why I’m doing it.
“Lydia,”
they say. “You’re doing well. You have a solid job at the phone company. Why
all the bother?”
I
mumble a quick response, but largely avoid their questioning. Between the
excellent tips, great food and bustling atmosphere, waitressing is too good to
pass up so I leave it at that. Burned once, I remain guarded and want to avoid
having anyone poke holes in my confidence.
What
I don’t tell them is I’m saving money to start my own business. A woman’s gotta
do her own thing. It’s the only way to find true satisfaction and success in
life. In an effort to make my vision a reality, I have put my intention out
there and wait patiently for The Universe to deliver.
I
take my inspiration from Mr. Fox, he’s the owner of the Cape Codder and he’s a
smart man. He’s doing his own thing and it’s served him well. Not only does he
run a damn fine business, he’s also wise about the stock market. Every so often
I ask Mr. Fox what he’s investing in and note it on my waitressing pad.
Whenever my stash of tips amounts to $250, I invest. The Universe is starting
to deliver and my stock fund is adding up nicely.
Once
my stock fund hits its goal, I’m going to start my business. There’s a small
studio above the head shop on Chapel Street. Between the reasonable rent and
the hippie vibe below, it’s the perfect spot. Lydia’s Cosmic Consultancy is
what I’ll call it.
And
please don’t call it a fortunetelling business. I’m all about using a spiritual
path to guide people to success and helping them live life to their potential
so they may do good for themselves and for the community. With a basis in
astrology, it’s not that I will tell their future; rather, I’ll give customers
the tools to make their own future. And there lies the difference. By
empowering rather than telling I can get them to make something happen in their
life rather than plodding along sheep-like as many folks do.
And
why not start a psychic consultancy? Each time I visit my sister Martha in San
Francisco I see a ton of folks working in the clairvoyant realm. And let me
tell you they are all kooks, total amateurs; their businesses, strictly for the
birds. And if they can do it in San Francisco, I can certainly do it here.
A
business like mine is just what this place needs. You see, there’s an
existential crisis going on here. The city no longer really knows who it is and
given its long history and location, is it any wonder it’s lost? Located
between two major metropolitan areas, it’s overshadowed by two American superstars.
Sure, it’s had its moments but it’s failed to have any big ones propelling it
into the limelight, but everything can change. All it takes is getting people
to listen to their soul and act on the message. Use their gifts, get together
with others, and see our community as one.
~
I
walk a few short blocks to the corner and join the usual suspects to wait for
the bus. A mish-mash of folks cram onto the bus and I jostle with them. This
mass of humanity and the bus itself is not my cup of tea. The cracked leather
seats have seen better days and the bus makes a loud clank each time it goes
over a bump. Folks have written graffiti on the back of the seats with “screw
convention” and “Jerry has a big one” scrawled in jagged handwriting. Lack of
pride shows and the upkeep of the bus system, like the city itself, is slowly
going downhill.
Today’s
bus ride isn’t so bad as I’m lucky to be seated next to two college girls.
They’re young, sane, and most importantly, clean, a pleasant contrast to the
skanky majority that normally rides the bus. Not that I’m a snob or anything,
but some of these people, let me tell you. I’m accepting of everyone, but the
cleanliness factor really vexes me. Can’t they take a little time to launder
their clothes and bathe daily? It’s a matter of pride and you’ve got to have
pride to make it in life.
The
college girls chat with exuberance, each topic possibly the most fascinating
thing they’ve ever heard. Lively young people always make me smile. Their eternal
enthusiasm, their excitement about everything, they way few things annoy them. Each
year, college students come to the city passionate and ready to conquer the
world, but most leave four years later when they conclude it to be a second
rate city, a has-been, a place that has seen better days. They should stick it
out. This city has all the right ingredients to go places.
The
bus chugs along past the old-world charm of downtown on to the fast food joints
and shady clubs just outside the city center and finally on to the antique shops,
boutiques, and restaurants of the pleasant neighborhood near the Cape Codder.
During this short ride, the city transforms in front of my very eyes, and I watch as it changes from an old college town to a
down-and-out second-tier city to a park-filled city with tree-lined streets in quaint
residential neighborhoods.
This city has a certain mystique and
vibrancy giving it a personality much bigger than it's size. It's the way the old-world
feel collides against an urban grittiness that makes its heart beat. History, decay, prosperity, youth, promise, individuality,
nature, and so much more are all right here sitting side-by-side. Right now the
city is down-and-out, but it can be saved. I have a great intuition about these
things, and I can be a leader in our revitalization. Once my new business is up
and running, I’ll help people
connect to others and to their greatest strengths. Empowering people this way
is what will help heal the city and propel it into its greatest imagined
future.
I
stare out the window and try to get in the proper waitressing mind-frame. To
keep my enthusiasm up, I work to channel the energy of the young college girls
and then it hits me. I know exactly why I’m so drawn to them. All three of us share
the same birth sign; we’re all Leos. Never shy to start a conversation with
strangers, I pipe up.
“You girls are Leos. I can tell.”
The
college girls are enchanted as I explain the differences between July and
August Leos, and the girls stare back in wide-eyed wonderment as I’ve pinned
them correctly, first as Leos and then which is the July Leo and which the
August. I’ve got a captive audience, so I school them on the intricacies of the
Leo personality and warn them to watch out for Pisces, a fact I know all too
well as Mr. Katz, my boss at phone company, and my ex are both Pisces.
~
Rustic
wooden tables fill the dining area of the Cape Codder. White walls and linens and
pastel sea-themed paintings contrast the dark tables and give the restaurant a
beachy feel. On some evenings, tables are pushed aside after dinner to allow for
bands, Grateful Dead cover bands like the one playing tonight, and reggae bands
being the type Mr. Fox prefers. He says they draw the college kids yet their
grooviness keeps the vibe mellow and eliminates altercations. The Cape Codder
never has any fights on music nights and cash always pours in.
I’m
great at this waitress thing. It’s all about giving people what they need and
sensing the best way to treat them. Do they need lots of fussing or just a
quick check in from time to time? Do I make small talk with them or do I keep
my motor mouth shut? The college girls who wait tables with me should follow my
lead. The seriousness they take to waiting tables is over-the-top. They pour on
phony, sickly-sweet joviality and they never shut up. And the outfits. What is
up with those short skirts and tight shirts? As if revealing a lot of your body
will be the key to success. And trust me, college girls, for the most part, never
last long at waitressing.
We
do a hoppin’ dinner business tonight and as we begin to set up for the band, I
spot the young girls from the bus. They’re here with some cocky young men, a
cheery group of vigorous, confident college kids. But the group is a mis-match.
The young men are lazy and are not right for these girls.
~
Encountering
these college kids sets something off in me, and I become lost in thought.
Lightheadedness overcomes me, and I have to place my hand against the wall to
steady myself. My mind races back to 1985, a formative and magical year in my
life.
That
spring, I graduated from retailing college and come fall I scored
a coveted assistant manager position at Bloomingdale’s flagship store. I was
well on my way to achieving the goals I set out for myself when I started school
two years prior. Dylan walked into my life a few weeks later and something
softened in me. Still driven at work, I became less outwardly hard-nosed and life
took on a joy and optimism I had not felt since childhood.
Our
courtship started with a flurry and escalated with intense passion as autumn
leaves dropped and made way for steel skies and frosty winter nights. One fall
later, shortly before my 21st birthday, Dylan and I married. From
then on, autumn became a special time of year for me, a chance to reflect on
the year gone by and look ahead with anticipation to the year to come.
A
promising junior executive at an important financial firm, Dylan had confidence
that comes with success. He exuded charisma and had a contagious passion for
good times. We shared a taste for adventure and the finer things in life, and
we both had ease with people and an eagerness to engage.
Rewarding,
fruitful jobs filled our days, and free time was spent in an endless series of
parties, events and adventures; weekend trips to ski in Vermont, jaunts to the
beach, dinners at 21, and late, late nights at the Limelight and the Palladium.
Endearing friends, fun times and blessed good fortune were bequest upon us. Young,
spunky, attractive and successful, people wanted to be us and we thought we had
it all.
What
was not to like? Sure, Dylan was a Pisces and we all know that spells trouble
for a Leo gal like myself, but I ignored what I knew deep down. You see, during
college, it became apparent that in order to succeed in the world of fine
retail, I needed to keep my senses to myself. In an effort to move ahead, I
squashed an important part my being.
In
those days, there were always people around, our posse consisting of Dylan’s
coworkers, the gals from Bloomingdale’s and a steady stream of random people we
met who were instantly drawn to Dylan. I grew up with three sisters and an
extended family nearby so I enjoyed the constant company.
What
I didn’t realize at the time was it all revolved around Dylan. Constantly on
the lookout for people who could do him a favor by helping him by-pass rungs
and take shortcuts up the corporate ladder, Dylan determined who he hung out
with, when, and where. Outwardly, he appeared to be a hard working, hard
playing financier, but a small voice in my head, which I ignored, told me he
was lazy and was ready to use people to get where he wanted to go.
A
few years into our marriage, Dylan said he wanted to escape the shackles of
corporate America and do his own thing. In great detail, he told me about the
limitless world of real estate, and effortless money one could make by investing
in undervalued properties and under-the-radar neighborhoods.
“Think
about the rigid hours of corporate jobs,” he said. “The foolish, oppressive
rules and stodgy bosses leading the show. When you do your own thing you are
free. And the money isn’t bad either. No bosses to keep it from you or
redistribute it unfairly. The potential is unlimited.”
The
idea captivated me, and I was fully supportive of his ambitions. Doing my best
to be the perfect wife, I hosted cocktail parties and socialized with Dylan so
he could network with what he called “the right sorts of people.” Eventually,
he found a business partner, a young man about his age named Richard Bannister.
Two smooth-talkers looking to make money and find success on their own terms,
they quit their safe corporate jobs and dove head first into the world of real
estate.
From
the start, deals came easily. A remodeled brownstone, a small apartment
building they fixed up and flipped, and a multitude of small yet lucrative
projects materialized with minimal effort. Over time, Dylan and Richard began
to set their sights on bigger deals. They were making good money easily, but were
starting to wonder how much more could be made. Eventually, they convinced me
to invest my retirement money from Bloomingdale’s into one of their ventures. A
big one they said, a real game-changer. Everything had gone smoothly up until
now so what could go wrong? Willingly, I cashed out and left it to them.
As
the big deal moved ahead, I sensed something was amiss. At work and at parties,
friends seemed distant. I overhead hushed conversations sprinkled with words such
as swindle, pull-a-fast-one, and connive. What I had suspected all along was
true; Dylan was lazy and manipulative. He and Richard wanted fast cash, and
they were cheating people to get it. To this day, I wonder how I got so caught
up in it all that I didn’t listen to my soul?
In
an act of benevolence from The Universe, Dylan and Richard avoided jail time and
escaped any serious media attention. To make things right, we sold all of our
worldly possessions to pay off creditors and investors. With a minimum of
consequences, we survived the incident yet my money had disappeared and with it
went my passion. I initiated a divorce, which settled quickly as Dylan and I no
longer had any assets to squabble over. My focus began to crumble and my
performance at work, once my pride, suffered. It didn’t take long for my boss
to notice and within a few months, I was fired.
With
no resources or motivation, I fell behind on my rent and was evicted.
Depression set in and after a short hospital stay, I knew I’d hit rock bottom. It
was my sister Clara who brought me back home where I began putting the pieces of
my battered life back together.
Clara
set me up with her analyst, Dr. Feldman, a smart, no-nonsense woman who was
highly respected in her field. She practiced analysis in a way that was
comforting and life-giving yet firm and effective. Many an hour was spent in
her soothing office where she listened to me talk about my crushing disappointment,
total lost of identity, and utter lack of direction. There, my marriage
unfolded in front of me and I saw it with a new set of eyes. Like a
stonecutter, Dylan chipped away at the essence of my being, small slivers
shaved off one tap of the hammer at a time. Pieces tiny enough so I didn’t
notice but over time a big chunk of me went missing.
My
time with Dr. Feldman offered a cocoon of quiet and peace, a welcome contrasted
to the bustling, fanatic life I lived with Dylan. She helped me repair my
damaged spirit and worked with me to develop confidence like I never had before.
Slowly, I started to re-develop my senses and get back in touch with my soul. Most
importantly, thanks to Dr. Feldman, I learned never again to doubt myself or
squander a day.
In
a conspiracy of love, Clara, Dr. Feldman and so many others helped me rebuild. Eventually,
I secured a job at the phone company, moved to the city and began life as the
new Lydia. I want to pay it forward by helping these college girls. I can save
them from toxic men they are paired with and can offer exactly the kind of
guidance I wish I’d received back in 1985. I should tell them, “Yes, these boys
are fun but don’t let it fool you. They are perpetual self-centered children
who will rob you of your enthusiasm, your money, and your soul.”
~
The
dinner crowd is gone, replaced by the crowd here to see the band. I look for
the college girls but I can’t find them. Folks are gathering in front of the
stage eager for the music to start. Still not 100% with it, I scurry over to
help my fellow waitresses finish rearranging the room. It’s Mr. Fox who brings
me back to the present.
“Stellar
job with the 12-top Lydia,” he says handing me the bill presenter. “They said
keep the change.”
I
go to ring the till and collect my tip and see the party paid with crisp hundred
dollar bills. As I count out the money, I notice two bills have stuck together;
they have over-paid by $100. I look around but don’t see the party. I ask Mr.
Fox if he knows them, but he says they were from out of town. I explain about
the extra $100 bill and Mr. Fox say, “Well, it looks like it’s yours Lydia. You
deserve it.”
I
leave the Cape Codder with an extra $100 in my pocket and head to the bus stop.
A big smile crosses my face as I am reminded The Universe has a way of giving
you what you need in life and delivers what is right for you at the moment. Although
I wish I could have advised the two college girls, I realize we all have to
make our own way in life; take our chances, go through rough times, and learn
from our mistakes. No one was there to steer me away from Dylan yet I survived.
The two college girls are dynamic, resilient Leos. They may struggle from time
to time but they have the magnetism and resources to find their way. The Universe
will assure our paths cross again if it they need my guidance.
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