Front Row Seat

Inspired by true events.

I hear you my friend and you tell some pretty good stories, but let me tell you about something I got to be part of. You remember how’s I used to run the Mocambo club over in West Hollywood. Right?

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Real classy place. Now back in those days, you recall, most of the people— You know. You’re about the same age as me. It’s just how it was then —they kept to their own. Black folks with black folks. White folks with white. Not a lot of what they called intermixing. It ain’t like now.

So when I got a letter asking to book Ella Fitzgerald, I pretty much just laughed it off. Cuz like I said— different times. Now I ain’t no racist. I hate everyone equally. But I wasn’t no activist type neither, you know? I was a business man and business was good. I had lots of Hollywood types through the place and I didn’t wanna fuck that all up. You get me?

Okay, so this one afternoon, I have a fresh pastrami on rye, grilled onions, cheese melted just so, and a heaping helping of fries. Now they don’t make fries like they used to. Back then, they were a real treat, let me tell you. So anyhow…

I’m in my office. Door shut. Ain’t no one supposed to bug me when my door is shut. And it’s shut good cuz I’m about to make love to this sandwich. It’s that good—from Sal’s. Remember Sal, down on 5th street? God rest his soul. Best pastrami on rye west of Brooklyn. I can still taste it when I think about. Anyhow, I digress.

I’m halfway through my lunch, trimming the tip off of a nice cigar I’m planning on enjoying after I eat, when this kid Joey barges in, eyes wide, damn near vibrating out of his jacket.

I glare at him. “Unless this joint’s on fire, turn around and pretend you forgot where my office is.”

He hesitates. Looks like he’s weighing his options. Then he blurts, “Marilyn Monroe’s on the phone.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Tell her I’m on the can.”

“I did,” he says, barely containing himself. “She said she’d wait.”

That makes me pause.

A dame like that doesn’t wait for anything.