My high school friend, Jeff, is getting married. He and his betrothed got engaged on Jeff's birthday, which also happens to be Bea's birthday. Last night there was an engagement celebration at the bar Rare View. It is a rooftop bar with views of both the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings. I was nervous about taking Bea out for the evening since her bedtime is somewhere between 7 and 8, but we decided to brave it. We made plans to meet Dale at the bar after work. It was a long trip down. (I had my second encounter with an out-of-order elevator in one of the few "accessible" subway stations. An outrage.) The bar is in a hotel, and has a separate entrance to an elevator, guarded by a beefy security guard. Bea and I strolled up to the elevator and Beefy asked if we were going to our room. "No, the rooftop bar." He looked at Bea and said, with a very straight face, "She's not 21."
What?
I thought he was joking and stared at him for a second. He hadn't said, "We don't allow children in the bar." He had said, "She's not 21." I asked if he were kidding. He was not kidding. I made him repeat it 2 or 3 times, because I really didn't believe him. I told him I had been in many bars with babies before and asked if he really thought the cops would bust them for having an infant in the bar. He held fast. I was stunned and annoyed (to say the least) and turned and left. I knew Dale was already on the subway on his way down and called and left him a message. He called me as soon as he was above ground. Needless to say, he was a little peeved. He asked if I had spoken to a manager. I told him I had not, and that I didn't feel like picking a fight with Beefy. I could tell some sort of Daddy mode had kicked in. When he arrived he had me repeat the story, told me he'd be right back, and strode into the hotel lobby. He ended up speaking to one of the bar's owners, who was very nice and explained that they were simply concerned about the welfare of the child. He asked if she would be running around. (Dale had already told him Bea is three months old.) Dale managed to keep a straight face and refrained from any sarcasm and assured him that no, she would not be running around. The owner spoke to Beefy. Beefy let us on the elevator. The views were spectacular and we ordered Bea her first martini.
We are off to Times Square today to pick up a fake ID so that this doesn't happen again. (Can one still get a fake ID in Times Square??)
What?
I thought he was joking and stared at him for a second. He hadn't said, "We don't allow children in the bar." He had said, "She's not 21." I asked if he were kidding. He was not kidding. I made him repeat it 2 or 3 times, because I really didn't believe him. I told him I had been in many bars with babies before and asked if he really thought the cops would bust them for having an infant in the bar. He held fast. I was stunned and annoyed (to say the least) and turned and left. I knew Dale was already on the subway on his way down and called and left him a message. He called me as soon as he was above ground. Needless to say, he was a little peeved. He asked if I had spoken to a manager. I told him I had not, and that I didn't feel like picking a fight with Beefy. I could tell some sort of Daddy mode had kicked in. When he arrived he had me repeat the story, told me he'd be right back, and strode into the hotel lobby. He ended up speaking to one of the bar's owners, who was very nice and explained that they were simply concerned about the welfare of the child. He asked if she would be running around. (Dale had already told him Bea is three months old.) Dale managed to keep a straight face and refrained from any sarcasm and assured him that no, she would not be running around. The owner spoke to Beefy. Beefy let us on the elevator. The views were spectacular and we ordered Bea her first martini.
We are off to Times Square today to pick up a fake ID so that this doesn't happen again. (Can one still get a fake ID in Times Square??)
3 comments:
I loved this post.
Mitch has it right. Fantastic story. And what's so wonderful is Bea's signature on her driver's license. Authoritative, yet innocent.
Of course Bea would never run around while enjoying a martini...it's hard enough to keep those from spilling already.
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