Livin’ in New York City Post 10: Cabarets and Cappuccinos

The Don’t Tell Mama bar in Hell’s Kitchen was the site of a fabulous cabaret that I went to.

As I got back to my apartment after a day of working at the café and then seeing a film that night, I was faced with a decision: do some writing or go to bed immediately. Like I even had a choice. As September becomes October, I grow increasingly more excited for fall in New York. The colors, the temperatures, the pumpkin spice everything, the scary movies and the sweater weather. When I put on my white cable knit sweater, I look like Billy Crystal from “When Harry Met Sally” trying to look like Chris Evans from “Knives Out” but I still make it work. At least that’s my perception. 

In terms of my lifestyle as a man about town, I’ve hit both ends of the spectrum. I’ve been to the shows of Broadway and I’ve hung out in bars listening to bands and playing pool. But what about the middle? Something classy but yet underground. For that, I went to see my friend Andrea (another alumna from Northern Illinois University) perform in a cabaret being held at the Don’t Tell Mama bar in Hell’s Kitchen. 

Now, when most of you think of a cabaret, your mind probably goes to the classic Broadway musical and the film adaptation starring Liza Minnelli and Joel Grey. But that’s not what this was. A cabaret is simply a variety show where people sing songs, do dances or perform skits or stand-up comedy. 

At this particular cabaret, the atmosphere was perfect. The room was dark with a lot of small tables surrounding this stage and there was a bartender in the back making drinks for everyone. I just wish there were people smoking for the ambience of the vapor. I agree that cigarettes are bad but you can’t deny that there’s a certain elegance that comes from cigarette smoke. It cost $25 to get in and there was a two drink minimum. But if I had to do it again I would. Not only because the show was really good but because you’ve got to support your friends. Especially if they’re artists. 

When Andrea came on, she performed the song “Manhattan” from Sara Barielles’ 2013 album “The Blessed Unrest.” It was definitely a slow and moving tune with her amazing voice speaking to every person in that room. It was not just a matter of the singing, but the emotion that went into every lyric. I swear, that performance got the people near me tearing up. The rest of the show was full of a variety of great songs including “Matchmaker” from “Fiddler on the Roof,” “You’ve Got a Friend” by Carole King and some truly bizarre and wonderful comedy songs.  

After congratulating Andrea for her performance and heading home, I found myself caught in a massive downpour with no umbrella since no rain had been forecast earlier that day. There is nothing more romantic than getting caught in the rain as seen in films like “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” But when you don’t have a woman as gorgeous as Audrey Hepburn in front of you and you’re on your own instead, it’s just uncomfortable. Thank God I was wearing a leather coat. However, I always make the best of the situation and so I ran along the sidewalks blasting the soundtrack to “Singin’ in the Rain” on my Airpods until I found a 24-hour diner. 

So there I am completely soaked, except for my chest and arms, and I walk into this diner. I’m immediately welcomed in by the staff and they even gave me a towel to dry my face off with. All of the stereotypes that New Yorkers are selfish and assholes are just not true. Sure they’re rough around the edges and a bit abrasive, but they’re also caring people. 

On the way back, I think I fully made the transition to being a New Yorker when I gave accurate directions for the very first time. It was on the A train back home and a group of tourists from Texas were stumbling every time the train lurched from a stop. They also wanted to know what stop to get off so they could go to their hotel in the Financial District. Having walked through that part of town a couple of weeks ago, I knew not only where their hotel was but how many stops away it was on our train. 

Giving them the right directions felt like a true right of passage, like I had become completely assimilated. They also complimented my beard which further boosted my ego. Since they were tourists, I asked if they had had real New York pizza. When they said no, I was quick to point out the best pizza you can get by the slice: the classic Joe’s Pizza. 

If Jesus could make pizza, it would taste like Joe’s Pizza.

Speaking of which, I was just at the Joe’s Pizza near Union Square yesterday after seeing a film and the guy who was in charge of the orders behaved exactly like the Soup Nazi from “Seinfeld.” He wanted the customers to be ready with their order and when they quickly gave it he would call “Next!.” It was both hilarious and delightful. You’ve got to respect the way that man ran that line and the efficiency of it all. 

Currently, the High Holidays of Judaism are upon us and earlier this week, on Rosh Hashanah, a group of Hasidic Jews who live in the neighborhood merrily wished me a Happy New Year. I thanked them but I politely told them that I wasn’t Jewish and I wished them a Happy New Year for them and their families. They started laughing because “I could have sworn you were one of us.” Sorry fellas, as much as I love and respect the Jewish people, I’m as Gentile as it gets. I’m the grandson of a pork farmer for Christ’s sake. 

In career oriented news, my jobs are going great. As an assistant to the writing resort, I am currently working on maintaining articles and setting up weekly events for the Resort’s social network website. I’m slowly learning how the place functions and it’s definitely something new. But I’m not one to shirk off anything new, especially if I’m getting paid for it. As for my assistantship with The Resort founder’s husband, who operates as an independent filmmaker, things are definitely interesting. Everytime I’m called in to help him, I have no idea what to expect. 

Just this week, I helped my boss fix a toilet because the gasket connecting the bowl to the tank was leaking. So we had to first remove the bolts which was easier said than done. The wingnuts of the bolts had become rusted and immobile so we had to use a bladed dremel to cut through them. However, when all the work was done, we replaced the gasket and made this toilet run smoothly. So, if you need a toilet gasket changed, I’m now your man. Anything else and you really should call a plumber. 

The way I see it, I’m basically Henry Hill from “Goodfellas,” enamored with a life I’ve only seen from afar. When Henry became a part of the world of gangsters, he was doing whatever they needed him to do: scalping cigarettes, making sandwiches, parking Cadillacs, whatever Paulie and Tootie wanted. But as time went on, he was able to do heists and make some powerful connections. That could be me one day if you just replace all of the criminal activity with artistic endeavors. It’s great work, keeps me busy and I’m always learning new skills which I can apply to my filmmaking style, my personal life or my work ethic. 

Work at the café has also become very interesting. Of course, I’m making the same sandwiches and drinks but I’m learning new recipes and tasks every day. I also get full control of the Bluetooth Speakers on Friday and Saturday meaning that when I play my music, the café is filled with showtunes, gospel music, the blues, soul, country music, folk and rock music from the 1950s to the present. 

I’ve also grown accustomed to wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a baseball cap. Depending on the cap, I’ll wear it backwards and, on one of those days I was wearing it backwards, one of my customers told me that I looked like Luke Danes, played by the amazing Scott Patterson, from the cult classic television show “Gilmore Girls.” I was obviously flattered by the comparison and offered to serve her in a more sarcastic tone if she wanted. It’s the little compliments that make your day. Not to mention a nice tip. 

When it comes to tips, I have a certain mentality for how to earn them. I’m not someone who expects an automatic 20% just for doing my job. There’s a scene at the very beginning of “Reservoir Dogs” where Steve Buscemi’s character Mr. Pink talks about why he won’t automatically tip and how he only tips if someone really puts in the effort. So, I just pretend that every customer is Steve Buscemi. 

My hours are increasing and October should be the first month that I won’t have to go to my savings to pay the rent. I’m not making a fortune but I’ve got enough to get by, save some extra cash for my student loans, and live a comfortable life. Although, part of me does wish I had a tub/shower in my kitchen. It would just give the place the bohemian feeling that I’m craving. 

Along with work, I must still make time to explore the city and experience its many sights as well as work on my writing and possible film projects. I owe that to myself after all of the effort I went through just to get here. But it hit me. I got here on July 18th (a date I’m going to christen as my rebirthday) and it’s just now October. I’ve only been here for a little over two months and I’ve already seen and done so much. I’ve got multiple jobs, a few loyal friends and a whole city’s worth of experiences at my fingertips. So, when I become frustrated that I haven’t written enough or I haven’t done more to see this city, it’s important to remember just how new I still am.

The Long Island City Corner Café is where I spend my time as a barista currently trying to understand the difference between espresso, cappuccino, macchiato, cortado and Americano.