the good doctor
the good doctor is back in the UK.
I met him ages ago it seems now, but in truth it was only this past August. He came cruising through the propped open door of the bar I worked at in Philadelphia. Intermezzo Cafe it was called. A glorified coffee shop, really, and I was the glorified barista. We had a full bar, and on the weekends I had complete control of the place. I could close or stay open at will. As a business the place was a mess. My boss was an all out lunatic who drank several red bulls and several espresso's a day and was an ex-proffesional ballet dancer with a 22 yr old fiance and no talent for entrepreneurship. In anycase, certain nights I had free reign. Patrick usually sat at the bar and drank and screwed around on my computer. I had regulars. When I say regulars, I don't mean people whose face and order you recognize, but people whose lives I became inextricably involved with by being their bartender. Sometimes they were there when I got to work and didn't leave until I did. It became normal for me that two friends/regulars and I would be the only ones in the place at eleven and they'd say "close! come get a beer!" and I would.
So thats how it became not so strange for me to befriend, genuinely, a guy who waltzed the door of my place of employ.
It was humid in that jungle way that it gets in Philadelphia. The air conditioner at intermezzo was constantly giving out so half the time at night I'd have the door propped open. Pav came careening through the door holding, i'm not kidding you, hundreds of dollars up in the air. He was shouting something or other at the TV, which was always on CNN, and something about Britain had appeared. He stood at the bar waving hundreds of American dollars at the Brits on TV. I was laughing so hard, and Pav was so engrossed in his ridiculous display, that it took me a few moments to convince him just how bad an idea it was to go waving money around in a bar like that.
He'd gotten kicked out of the Irish bar down the street, I soon learned. Some rude words were exchanged between him and an irish bartender there who'd "supposedly" started the whole thing. The good doctor can be a bit stubborn.
Pav was in Philly as part of an ongoing process to get a medical residency in pathology in the states. Sometimes he'd drink and study for medical licensing stuff at the bar. Mostly though he just made friends. A few weeks later he returned to the UK with plans to come back to the states soon. Which he did, in November as I remember. He stayed in a bed and breakfast in West Philly which was hosing him for money. By then I'd quit working at intermezzo and was trying to get through the last semester of school.
We hung out with him often and our friendship with him grew. He'd brought us Bells' Irish whiskey and Chocolate from the UK. He went back to the UK again and this time when he returned in February, it was agreed he stay at the carraige house we lived in on the north edge of Philly. He cleaned a lot.
The first few weeks were a little rocky. Patrick and I were accustomed to prancing about the kitchen in our underwear int he mornings and walking straight out of the bathroom buck naked and holding a towel. In retrospect it was good for us to be socialized again. We have a tendency to hibernate to a degree detrimental to our sanity.
He cooked lots of curry and bought a case of beer everyday which we often sat around our room at night drinking and carrying on.
Patrick and I needed out of Philly pretty badly though. Debt was piling and jobs were dwindling. Pav always offered to help us but some things are best taken care of on your own. So we told him the lot of us were heading to cleveland for a change of scenery and crash at my mothers. He didn't care.
so he stayed here with us, flirting with my mother, putting dishes in the dishwasher.
He went to chicago two weeks ago to accept his residency and is now back in the UK taking care of paperwork.
He'll be back though. Soon enough.
I met him ages ago it seems now, but in truth it was only this past August. He came cruising through the propped open door of the bar I worked at in Philadelphia. Intermezzo Cafe it was called. A glorified coffee shop, really, and I was the glorified barista. We had a full bar, and on the weekends I had complete control of the place. I could close or stay open at will. As a business the place was a mess. My boss was an all out lunatic who drank several red bulls and several espresso's a day and was an ex-proffesional ballet dancer with a 22 yr old fiance and no talent for entrepreneurship. In anycase, certain nights I had free reign. Patrick usually sat at the bar and drank and screwed around on my computer. I had regulars. When I say regulars, I don't mean people whose face and order you recognize, but people whose lives I became inextricably involved with by being their bartender. Sometimes they were there when I got to work and didn't leave until I did. It became normal for me that two friends/regulars and I would be the only ones in the place at eleven and they'd say "close! come get a beer!" and I would.
So thats how it became not so strange for me to befriend, genuinely, a guy who waltzed the door of my place of employ.
It was humid in that jungle way that it gets in Philadelphia. The air conditioner at intermezzo was constantly giving out so half the time at night I'd have the door propped open. Pav came careening through the door holding, i'm not kidding you, hundreds of dollars up in the air. He was shouting something or other at the TV, which was always on CNN, and something about Britain had appeared. He stood at the bar waving hundreds of American dollars at the Brits on TV. I was laughing so hard, and Pav was so engrossed in his ridiculous display, that it took me a few moments to convince him just how bad an idea it was to go waving money around in a bar like that.
He'd gotten kicked out of the Irish bar down the street, I soon learned. Some rude words were exchanged between him and an irish bartender there who'd "supposedly" started the whole thing. The good doctor can be a bit stubborn.
Pav was in Philly as part of an ongoing process to get a medical residency in pathology in the states. Sometimes he'd drink and study for medical licensing stuff at the bar. Mostly though he just made friends. A few weeks later he returned to the UK with plans to come back to the states soon. Which he did, in November as I remember. He stayed in a bed and breakfast in West Philly which was hosing him for money. By then I'd quit working at intermezzo and was trying to get through the last semester of school.
We hung out with him often and our friendship with him grew. He'd brought us Bells' Irish whiskey and Chocolate from the UK. He went back to the UK again and this time when he returned in February, it was agreed he stay at the carraige house we lived in on the north edge of Philly. He cleaned a lot.
The first few weeks were a little rocky. Patrick and I were accustomed to prancing about the kitchen in our underwear int he mornings and walking straight out of the bathroom buck naked and holding a towel. In retrospect it was good for us to be socialized again. We have a tendency to hibernate to a degree detrimental to our sanity.
He cooked lots of curry and bought a case of beer everyday which we often sat around our room at night drinking and carrying on.
Patrick and I needed out of Philly pretty badly though. Debt was piling and jobs were dwindling. Pav always offered to help us but some things are best taken care of on your own. So we told him the lot of us were heading to cleveland for a change of scenery and crash at my mothers. He didn't care.
so he stayed here with us, flirting with my mother, putting dishes in the dishwasher.
He went to chicago two weeks ago to accept his residency and is now back in the UK taking care of paperwork.
He'll be back though. Soon enough.
posted by emily at 12:08:00 AM
1 Comments:
he has no idea what a good man he is. I've seen many, few near as good. what an austistic ballet we can't escape... come to phila, the autistic ballet you can't escape... that wont bring tourists, will it?
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