SEGUE TO A LIFE

From the R.M. Dolin novel, “AN UNSUSTAINABLE LIFE – The Book of Isaac”

Chapter 6: Segue To a Life

The hard part of having a job is not having to be on your feet for hours. It’s not having to keep a schedule determining when you eat, when you sleep, when you get a moment to breathe. It’s not being responsible to people who depend on your presence at work and on you being present while you work. The hard part of having a job is working your life around work and the difficulty of remembering your work life is not your life; at least it shouldn’t be. Isaac has tried moving on since Gabriella dumped him, but it’s hard. Not the emotional part, he got past that by extracting himself from Gabriella’s social circle. Like a frog in a pot of warming water, within their toxic relationship Isaac couldn’t see how unbearable things had become. With the clarity of hindsight though, Gabriella’s confession, “It’s not that I don’t love you Isaac, it’s that I can’t,” painfully encapsulates why their relationship was doomed.

The hard part of moving on from a failed relationship is moving. It’s always been easy for Isaac to meet people but he’s only now realizing the biggest barrier to meeting single ladies when you have a job is the ability to be where single ladies are and where they are, is not at Murphy’s Northshore Bar. Even if Murphy’s was a single ladies hot spot, Murphy has a strict policy about bartenders hooking up with patrons. Before becoming part of the Windy City workforce Isaac could go to the gym at night where he’d always find ladies to flirt with. Now his gym schedule has shifted to late mornings. The only ladies there then are married moms who dumped their kids at daycare, wives on the prowl or getting in shape to keep their husband’s attention, and women who were once married and desperately hope to be that way again.

Isaac isn’t interested in pursuing any of these options and he certainly does not want to raise another man’s kids. The challenge in dating a woman with kids is that eventually the kids start to like you and the risk is that the relationship with them outlasts your relationship with their mom. Then you’re left with the inevitable outcome of walking away from both. After being on the receiving end of an abandonment shit show with Uncle Darwin, there’s no way Isaac can put some other kid though that kind of trauma.

According to Windy City Singles, the definitive guide to hookup hot spots, the best places to meet singles in Chicago are trendy after-work bars, downtown night clubs, choreographed activities like Argentine Tango or ethnic cooking, and adventure activities like mountain biking, kayaking, running, or cycling. The unfortunate challenge Isaac’s yet to overcome is that all those places, events, and activities are geared for singles who work during the day and play at night. Unfortunately, his work schedule vectors in the opposite direction.

It’s only by chance that Isaac meets Sara, a newly hired Chef de Partie at Four Seasons Chicago. As a recent graduate of the Culinary Institute of America in San Antonio, Sara’s still acclimating to Windy City life and struggles with mid-western culture. This is why she risks asking Isaac on the L-platform one afternoon if it’s safe to ride the L to Midway for a flight back home. She needs to visit her parents in West Texas for their thirtieth anniversary, and the flight leaves Midway early in the morning. This means she’d be riding the L to Chicago’s South Side when it’s dark and one does not need to be in Chicago long to know the South Side is not safe. Sara assumes since Isaac’s dressed in a hospitality uniform and on the L-platform in mid-afternoon, he’s probably a front-of-the-house worker at some hotel or restaurant in the Northshore area.

From that pragmatic survival question, one thing leads to another and before long Isaac’s offering to take Sara to the Field House to see Sue, the world’s largest and most complete T-rex. He points out the advantages of attending the museum on weekday mornings where they only have to contend with elderly tourists and kids on field trips. That was three weeks ago, and since then, Sara and Isaac have increasingly spent time together when their schedules allow. Working in a blue-collar bar that caterers to Cub fans, Isaac’s hours are typically early afternoon till sometime after midnight and usually on weekends. As one of many Four Seasons chefs, Sara has a rotating schedule and she’s currently on the weekday lunch and evening prep schedule. This leaves little overlapping free time between them but so far, they’re finding ways to make it work.

The Four Seasons is an upscale Northshore venue catering to a highly focused demographic vastly different from Murphy’s. The Four Seasons attracts wealthy sophisticated international travelers looking for a pampered on-site experience that in no meaningful way provides exposure to the raw workings of the Windy City. Hotel staff do, however, go to great lengths to create the essence of a catered Chicago experience for their guests, which occasionally includes off-site excursions. Murphy’s serves blue-collar locals who prefer to keep things simple. At least that was Murphy’s targeted demographic, lately a new vibe’s been infiltrating the zeitgeist as word of Murphy’s Crabby Paddys is creating a culinary buzz.

Sara refuses to believe Isaac’s portrayal of how the now famous Murphy’s sandwich came to be and his role in promoting its success. This is why he’s invited her to the bar tonight so Patrick, the official Crabby Paddy creator, can verify straight up the true story of how this Windy City phenomena came into being. Isaac spent last night preparing Sara for the Murphy’s experience so she wouldn’t be shocked or overwhelmed. He stressed that coming out of the Four Seasons’ and walking into Murphy’s is like being teleported to another universe. She reassures Isaac that Murphy’s can’t be rougher or rawer than the West Texas bars she grew up in helping her dad with his restaurant supply business.

Isaac wants her to come before the Cub’s Twilight double header gets started but her shift doesn’t end until six and tonight’s the last chance before she flies home for her parent’s anniversary. They agree to meet at eight, which Isaac estimates is somewhere around the bottom half of the second game’s fourth inning. He tries not to let on so as not to frighten her, but he’s worried about introducing Sara to Murphy’s faithful. It’s not that they’re mean or anything other than respectful, it’s that they take a little getting used to.

Another thing he struggles to reconcile is his burgeoning belief that bringing Sara to Murphy’s will be like bringing a prom date home to meet the parents. He’s never done something that, but this bizarre feeling is how he imagines the prom night thing would go down. He’s just as worried about how Sara will react to meeting the faithful as he is about how the faithful will react to meeting her. The most bizarre part of his eerie trepidation is his unrecognized need to earn the faithful’s approval. He’s never given a shit about seeking anyone’s approval before so this entire Sara at Murphy’s event has Isaac filled with emotional tension.

Having Sara come to Murphy’s is what he imagines it would be like if Sara invited him to West Texas to meet her parents. A lot of pressure and a whole lot of anxiety, both of which are emotions Isaac’s not used to in relationships. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it has more to do with his relationship with the Murphy faithful than it does with his relationship with Sara. It makes no sense and causes more circular anxiety. It’s part and parcel the crap Isaac’s dealing with as he works on preparing tonight’s condiments in his usual spot at the table in the back of the kitchen.

When Murphy walks by, he mistakes Isaac’s anxiety for sadness and is compelled to stop. Even though Murphy’s up to his elbows getting ready for the doubleheader he’s grown fond of Isaac and given the quiet way he’s been carrying on all afternoon, Murphy’s needs to find out what up. “You okay lad?” he asks while giving Patrick a ‘what’s going on’ look.

Patrick shrugs his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Isaac mumbles, “nothing but sunshine and unicorns.”

“Well, ya seem a little off is all.” Murphy sits down across from Isaac, which shocks Patrick because Murphy’s never sat down with someone in his kitchen. “I know this whole Gabriella thing’s been hard lad but stuff like that is just part of life. We got a saying from the old country, “May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”

Murphy watches Isaac for any indication his wisdom helped but all Isaac can muster is a slight smile. “What the hell does that have to do with his troubles?” Patrick interjects. “You can’t come up with something more inspirationally Irish like, “Life sucks. Drink more.”

“How about this,” Murphy responds. “may you never be so hungry your forced to eat food prepared by an out of work cook.”

Patrick laughs. “Good one.”

Murphy turns his attention back to Isaac. “Since we’re having this whole employee evaluation moment, I need to ask if you’re seeing anyone?”

Isaac’s come to expect the unexpected when interacting with Murphy, but this one takes him by surprise, “Need to or want to? Either way, I’m pretty certain you’re not allowed to ask me that.”

“I’m just concerned is all, lad.” Murphy gives Isaac a chance to respond but he doesn’t. “So, are you?”

“Why you asking?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Patrick interjects. “Just tell him already.”

Isaac rocks back in his chair grinning. “You wagered on me again, didn’t you?”

“Not me lad,” Murphy deflects.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Murphy, just tell the poor bastard.”

Isaac sets down his lime cutting knife and grins. “Yeah boss, mea culpas are good for the soul.”

Murphy glares at Patrick, “Ain’t you got potatoes to peel?”

“No man.” Patrick grabs a chair from the bottle polishing area. “Ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’m gonna miss watching you try to worm your way out of this.”

“Am I gonna need to call my union rep?” Isaac teases.

“Don’t you go getting started with that sort of shit lad.” Murphy turns to address his chef, “And you-“

“He was gonna find out tonight anyway,” Patrick preempts. “Way better to bring him up to speed in the back of the house instead of out there.”

Isaac looks at Patrick. “Et tu Brutus?”

“Don’t drag me into Murphy’s drama.” Patrick shouts over toward the dishwasher station. “Santi, tell him I wasn’t any part of this.”

Santi wipes his clean hands in his dirty apron, grinning at the trio of misfit Anglos as he walks over. “Si Señor. Please to remind me first, do you have the over or the under?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Patrick shouts. “I am definitely calling immigration this time.”

“Now just hold on lads,” Murphy referees, “this here’s getting out of control.”

“Sure boss,” Isaac says. “But just so we get the verbiage right for the HR paperwork, why don’t you tell us in your own words what happened.”

“That I will lad! Now mind ya, this was a month ago, it all started the night you and that Gold Coast girl broke up. You remember?”

“Pretty hard not to.” Moments ago, Isaac was nervous about introducing Sara to the faithful but now, the problem seems to be solved.

“Well remember how I was being nice and all like the good boss I am and gave you the rest of the night off.”

“You are if nothing else a benevolent boss.”

“That I am.” Murphy scans the room making eye contact with both Patrick and Santi. “And don’t the lot of ya be forgetting that.”

“But. . .” Isaac teases.

Murphy looks at Patrick, “You gonna help me out here?”

“Wish I could man, but we got a strict policy in the back of the house about getting tangled up in HR matters.”

“Ha ha.” Murphy grouses. “You as well as anybody lad, knows how the boys can get going. As soon as you leave the night that Gold Coast girl dumps you, they get to talking about how bad they feel. Some for betting against ya and others cause you’re now alone. Everyone agrees it sucks coming right in the middle of your hard financial times. One thing leads to another, like it always does, and before ya know it, they got a proper wager going about how long it’ll take you to find a replacement.”

“Replacement?” Isaac clamors. “I don’t know if HR or my union rep’s gonna find that more offensive.”

“That’s what I said,” Patrick chimes in.

Isaac looks at Patrick. “We’ll be circling back to you later. Before we do, ya never answered Santi question about the over/under?”

“The boys learned their lesson last time,” Patrick states. “No fixed date, this wager floats the over/under based on how the pool betting goes.”

“Ya freaking got a pool and an over/under?”

“Well,” Murphy interjects. “It started out as a pool, you know, players picking particular dates. The over/under sort of morphed off that.”

As a master bettor, Isaac already sees flaws. “How ya gonna know I found a replacement? A first date seems sketchy. Ya can’t base it on my having sex cause there ain’t a snowball’s chance in hell you bastards find out about that. The only way your wager works, is me announcing I’m with someone and that only works if I don’t know there’s a wager, but now I do.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Patrick groans, “The kids right. Now that he knows, he can totally control the outcome.”

“You’re right,” Murphy concedes, “We’re gonna have to call off the wager.”

“Unless,” Isaac offers. “I can definitively validate the day I intended to announce my pending replacement before I knew about the wager.”

“I’m listen lad.”

“I met a girl,” Isaac begins as the boy’s lean in to hear his tale. “Isn’t that how all good drama begin?”

“Yeah, yeah, lad, go on.”

“He name’s Sara-”

“With a ’H’ or ‘no-H’?” Patrick interjects.

“What the hell difference does that make?”

“It makes all the difference, you being a good Polish Catholic and all. Sarah, with an H, is Jewish, and Sara without the H, is Muslim. It becomes a pretty important point don’t ya think?”

“I don’t know how she spells her name. Let’s assume she’s ethnic-neutral and move on.”

“Fair enough,” Patrick concedes. “But we’ll be circling back to this, on that you can be sure.”

Isaac continues. “Sara’s a chef at the Four Seasons.”

“A chef, lad? Why the hell you wanna get tied up with that lot?”

Isaac’s getting annoyed by the constant interruptions. “You gonna let me tell my story?” He pauses until everyone nods in agreement. “Alright then. Sara says everyone’s talking about Murphy’s Crabby Paddys. She doesn’t believe my version of how the sandwich came about and wants to hear it straight from the chef who created the masterpiece.”

“As it should be.” Patrick declares.

“That’s all fine and good lad but get to the part where we validate the wager.”

“She’s coming tonight to meet Murphy’s Chef de Cuisine.

Isaac hands Murphy his phone as evidence. “I’ll be damned,” he grins like a pirate who’s rediscovered lost booty, “the wager’s back on.” With that decision by the official decider, Murphy continues to his office yelling as he goes. “Smoke breaks over Patrick. Time to peel more potatoes. Big night coming with high drama in store.”

Patrick chuckles. “Ya saved his sorry ass, so he’s beholding to you now, and that’s a fine place to be.” He considers the whole Sara thing further, “So you’re dating a chef from Four Seasons, that’s what I admire about you trust-funders, ya got a swim lane and ya stick to it.”

Santi chimes in. “Straight up homes. A Four Seasons chef, that kind of shit is downtown sick.”

“It’s not like I hang out there. We met on the L-platform. She wanted to know if it was safe to take the L to Midway.”

“I’m from the south side homes and I don’t take the L to Midway. Have her talk to me, I’ll straighten her shit out. But before that,” Santi turns to Patrick, “How the hell you know this ‘H’ – ’no-H’ shit.”

“I dated a Sarah with an H at culinary school. That chick wasn’t just Jewish, she was crazy-ass Kosher. They got so God-damn many food rules we can’t cook anything tasty.”

“Wait a minute,” Isaac interrupts. “You went to culinary school?”

“You think because I work in this dive, I’m not a real chef. It may surprise you Chicky, but I only work here because Murphy lets me use his kitchen for my Pirate gigs.”

“Pirate gigs? Whatta ya cater kid’s birthday parties?”

Patrick looks at Santa, “Tell him.”

“The dude’s sick man. He does these private events where people pay like a thousand dollars a plate. We did a poker gig last week for some Chinese dude out by O’Hare. Ten guys for a two-day tournament, I made a grand just in tips.”

“Give me five minutes with your honey,” Patrick teases, “and I’ll cut you in on my next unlicensed dinner.”

“I definitely want in on the dinner gig but I ain’t leaving your sorry ass alone with Sara.”

“I say we let Señor Crabby Paddy take a run at her just to see if he can pull it off.”

“Pull your heads out of the gutter guys. I just want to find out what cooking at the Four Seasons is all about.” Patrick helps himself to an olive from the condiment tray. “Has she cooked for you yet?”

“No, why?”

“That’s a chef’s way of saying they’re into ya.”

“Shit homes, you’re always wanting to make me street tacos.”

Patrick grins but before he can respond Isaac answers. “She ain’t cooked for me yet, but that’s on account of her staying at the hotel until she finds a place. She gave me a slice of some fancy soufflé she made once, does that count.”

Patrick looks at Murphy who’s just returned. “We’re gonna need a ruling on this?”

“You’re the chef.”

After a pregnant pause, Patrick renders his verdict. “She’s into you dude!” Santi gives Isaac two thumbs up as additional confirmation.

“What are you two so happy about,” Isaac demands.

“We both had the under and you just confirmed we won. I took the under cause you don’t strike me as the type that take’s well to being alone.”

“Isaac here’s my boy.” Santa adds. “Has the heart of us Latin lovers, women go for that. Besides, no way a rich boy like him lasts long on the market.”

“Aren’t you married?” Isaac asks.

“Makes the ladies want me more, homes. Women want what they can’t have.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Patrick moans.

Before Santi can counter, Murphy weighs in. “If you’re using wages to wager, Santi, I’m paying you too much.”

“Oh no, el jefe. I use tip money, but I am not so good at wagers so perhaps we can talk about a raise?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll pencil you in. How’s next June work for you?”

“Isn’t that when I get my usual raise?”

“Nothing gets past you,” Patrick laughs. “That’s why I’ve recommended you for the head dishwasher position, doesn’t come with a raise though.”

“I am already the only dishwasher.”

“Like I said, nothing gets past you.”

“Wait a minute,” Isaac interrupts. “I already validated today is the day I planned to introduce Sara.”

“Yeah, but she cooked for you.”

“So?”

“Today’s the bubble day of the wager, it’s neither over nor under, so the house would win, ain’t that right Murphy?”

“I’m happy to report that this is true.”

“But if she cooked for you before today, it means the under wins, am I right Murphy?”

“Sadly, also true.”

“That means me and Santi win, so sweet little Chef Sara, will be getting her own Crabby Paddy personally made by the creator.”

“All Murphy’s Crabby Paddies are personally made by the creator.” Isaac mocks.

“Don’t tell her that part.”

As word of Sara’s soufflé spreads among the faithful, they agree to accept Isaac has a girlfriend. They’ll still need to see her though, to validate she exists. By and large everyone’s happy for Isaac. They were starting to get as worried about him as they are about the other far more disconcerting matter. Tonight’s bar is packed, in part because of the Twilight double header. There’s also an entire cavalcade of non-faithful who are here to eat rather than support the home team. Murphy’s not sure what to make of it, while there is profit in food, the real cash cow is pints and diners are not drinkers.

Just before the first pitch of the second game Isaac manages a moment to text Sara. He needs to validate she’s coming, ask how she spells her name, and make sure she’ll message him when she arrives so he can meet her in the parking lot. His message emphasizes the importance of meeting in the parking lot. Isaac estimates Sara will arrive somewhere around the bottom half of the sixth, but she messages her arrival just as the Padres make their final out to end the fifth. This leaves Murphy to manage the mid-inning rush of patron pints as Isaac can’t run the risk of Sara coming in unescorted.

Even though Murphy grouses about having to handle the rush on his own Isaac knows he doesn’t really mind. It was after all Murphy’s idea to meet Sara outside. He insisted Isaac tell Sara about the bet before she came inside or else things could really blow up on him. Isaac imagines what Gabriella’s reaction would be and that makes him even more nervous about what Murphy refers to as his upcoming, dance with destiny.

Adding fuel to the fire is Lenny talking shit about all the risks Isaac should be worried about with bringing a girl into what he calls ‘the viper den.’ Isaac suspects Lenny’s just screwing with him because God only knows how many wagers the faithful have on every move he and Sara might make. Stupid shit like how Isaac introduces Sara to Murphy. Whether he holds her hand. Whether he holds her hand and then kisses her or kisses her first then holds her hand. Hell, there’s probably even a wager on whether he kisses her at all or if she kisses him. The probable number of wagers encasing an event like this is only limited by the faithful’s imagination and level of intoxication.

Murphy’s right though, Sara needs to know the demented space she’s walking into, and Isaac needs to allow her space to first be angry and then to leave if that’s her choice. He hopes that telling her allows remnants of what they have to be salvaged. Given all the scenarios Isaac’s imagined, the one he didn’t run is the one he finds in the parking lot as he walks outside and spots a white bus rolling into the parking lot. He assumes the bus is there to turn around. When he sees ‘Four Seasons’ boldly painted on the side panel he assumes Sara’s getting dropped off. When Sara hurries off the bus, Isaac assumes she’s eager to see him. When the rest of the passengers start to unload, Isaac panics.

“Let me explain.” Sara says. “When I ask the hotel concierge if it’s possible to take a shuttle to Murphy’s Northshore Bar, he says, isn’t that the place making the new Crabby Paddy sandwiches? I say yes and voilà, here I am with thirty hotel guests.”

Isaac’s still in shock. “You literally brought a bus load of people.”

“Don’t be mad. I should have called but it all happened so fast. Tell me we don’t need reservations.”

“This is not good.” Isaac mumbles. Should he run inside and warn the faithful? Is he obligated to warn Sara’s guests about what’s inside? Should he herd these unsuspecting people back onto the bus? As he stands in the parking lot trying to decide, the fine folks from Four Seasons don’t feel the need to wait as they’re already making their way inside.

Isaac grabs Sara’s hand and looks at her with worry. “I have to apologize and if you get fired, that’s on me.”

Sara forces a faint smile. “You’re scaring me.”

“Those people you brought have no idea what they’re walking into. This place is-, Well, it’s other worldly. Murphy’s as blue-collar as the people your people probably employ.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“My people drink tap beer and watch baseball wearing shirts with their names sewn on. Your people wear Armani suits and drink wine in crystal goblets. God does not intend for them to mingle.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. They just came for a quite dinner because the whole town’s buzzing about Murphy’s Crabby Paddys. They’ll have a glass of wine, enjoy a quiet dinner, and go home.”

“That’s what you don’t understand. This is not that kind of place.”

“Then the only one thing we can do is make the best of it. Everything else will figure itself out.”

Sara’s tribe is now inside making first contact with Isaac’s tribe, leaving Isaac and Sara a moment to assume ownership of everything about to go down. Isaac ushers Sara toward the bar’s entrance. “I should also mention the boys inside like to make wagers on just about anything.”

“So.”

“They have a wager on us.”

Sara stops. “I’m gonna need a little context.”

Isaac explains the wager’s entire chain of events leaving nothing out. Once done, he awaits judgment. Sara begins her oral arguments by stipulating she could care less about the wagers. In fact, she finds it kind of quaint; something folks back in her West Texas town would likely do. Regarding the matter of is she’s into him; she points out that she did make a soufflé. Sara’s far more concerned about how Isaac’s going to handle her side of their saga. She explains how the whole mess started when she mentions she was going to meet the Crabby Paddy chef. But now, if she doesn’t deliver a memorable Four Seasons caliber event it could end her culinary career. With that backstory, all that remains is going inside to watch the dominoes drop. As they step through the doorway, Isaac takes Sara’s hand in his and kisses her lightly on the cheek.

“Kiss me back.” He whispers.

Sara looks around the bar stunned to see everyone watching, waiting for what comes next. The blue-collar faithful are clustered around the bar holding their pints. The Four Season’s diners are lined up along the opposite wall wondering how one makes a reservation. Keeping her head close to Isaac’s she asks, “Why?”

“You have no idea how one little kiss can cause thousands of dollars to change hands.”

As Sara presses her delightful lips onto Isaac’s cheek, she whispers with divine deviousness, “Since we control the outcome, seems fair we get the Vig.”