The Force got adjusted last night and it was a good thing, long overdue, as the President of the Willow Bar and Restaurant Alumni Association made a triumphant return to the scene of the crime last night.

Waiting at the bar was John-with-an-H, sipping the happy Hour red and I slid into Old Jim’s traditional seat at the apex of the Amen Corner, and Tex the burly bartender appeared with a fresh crisp glass of white for me. Sabrina the Gypsy was adjusting her bosom in her black leotard top to best advantage when Liz-with-an-S appeared.

Liz-S is the President of the Alumni Association, an organization she conceived as a way of staying in touch with those who pass through the restaurant on the way to something else.

We have lost touch with some of them, others pop up periodically. Life does go on, as they say, and the food and beverage industry is one of constant evolution.

Spritely Tinkerbell, for example, is home with new infant NOLA. Peter of the Perfect Martini was tending bar downtown someplace. Big Jim the bartender makes periodic, though infrequent guest appearances; Kevin the Sommelier pops up once in a while. We have spent literally months and months with these great people, us carefree on the civilian side of the bar, and them conducting their performance art on the business side.

I saw Chris the Marine counseling some transient customers down the bar as Liz-S got settled. She was attired in a gray-layered woolen ensemble, nice neckline and prominent silver pendant highlighting her charms, leggings and gray boots. She was unscripted, out of the basic black that is the uniform for Willow employees.

She held court as her comrades stopped by to pay tribute, and it looked like the minor unpleasantness had passed. As a customer, she was completely welcome, and it was great to have her back again in the regular flow of things.

She asked for a happy Hour white, which saved Tex and Sabrina some time shuttling back and forth. Jake stuck with a Yard’s Ale as he anchored the upper end of the bar as the light faded under gray skies. Liz-S is happy. She is actually working cases, and as matters of pending investigation, she was not at liberty to comment specifically on the status of them individually, although she smiled in satisfaction at the certainty that a government official is going to take a felony fall for kick-backs in a grant program she is tracking carefully.

“See,” I said. “You needed to move on and do something with your law degree. The Hospitality industry was good fun and paid the bills, but now you are building past performance for the resume that will make a real professional career.”

Deborah the Willow Ops Boss came by to give Liz-S a hug, and one by one the staff stopped by to do the same. Liz-S visibly relaxed. The Force was in balance again.

My neck was limber enough to do the Wimbledon spectator thing, listening to John-with and Senior Executive Jeff’s discussion about the new 65-inch flat screen in Jeff’s bachelor pad and the chronic shortage of popular ammunition calibers due to the Government buying spree last summer.

“They are trying to get it all off the street,” said John-with darkly. “And then make the ammunition illegal.”

“They can try, I suppose,” I said. “But that is not going to happen in the short term, and even if the next horror makes confiscation possible, people are armed to the teeth as it is.”

Liz-S remarked to Jake that her department processed $7 Billion in grants, which is why the Inspector General offers weapons training to its officers. I rotated my torso to face her. “Are you going to get the training?” I asked.

She smiled that enigmatic smile of hers. “When you work for the Government, you ought to get all the training that is available.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said John-with, and I confess, I did too.

(All photos Socotra)

Copyright 2013 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com