It’s Friday night and I had a familiar perch for such an evening, a bar stool. This barstool however, was in Chicago where I was summoned for an urgent meeting with a new client. Two stacks of paper and my shiny new netbook, whose name is Ava, are open in front of me. I tucked into this Lincoln Park bar mostly because there seemed to be plenty of space to lay out my work, and the bartender had an easy smile about her.
Just about the time that I finished my Manhattan a couple of women, who would have gotten noticed even if they were not two of only a few people in the place and a gust of cold air had followed them in the door, entered the bar and took residence a few feet from me. Their interaction with the bartender suggested that they were regulars if not friends with her. Without ordering, two glasses of wine appeared on the bar.
I’m mostly ignoring my beer while scribbling notes, clicking keys, and reading reports when one of the women looks in my direction and said “It’s Friday night, why are you still working?”
I took a pausing breath before responding, “Well, I’m in town for work, and there’s still work to be done… being here is better than the service bar in my hotel.”
“Didn’t think you were from here – Chicago guys don’t work on a Friday night.”
A few more random lines were bandied to and fro but they went back to their wine, and I went back to my work after a minute or so.
Just after 8pm my Crackberry buzzed. I was dumbstruck by the message. I must have read it four or five times before I exclaimed “Wow” far louder than intended.
“Care to share?” the woman sitting closest to me asked.
This was one of those moments when you have to tell somebody so I just told these two women I was certain I would never see again*. “So, I write this anonymous blog… well mostly anonymous as I have met a few people through it, but that’s not really germane. Through the blog, I invented a holiday last week, International Crush Day, dedicated to declaring crushes. I wrote a blog post declaring a few of my crushes. I wrote that I crush on Katty Kay because ‘smart with a British accent just sounds better.’”
“You mean Katty Kay from NPR?” one of the women asked.
“From NPR, and the BBC and newspapers, and the Meet the Press, and bunch of other stuff too” I replied.
“Yeah, she is pretty hot” the ladies concurred.
“Well she, Katty Kay for the love of bacon, just left a comment on my blog, and frankly, I’m a little school-girl giddy about it.”
Andi and Monica spent the next hour or so peppering me with questions about the blog. We spent the next four hours drinking, eating, letting the place fill around us, and talking about whatever, but I was still floating on the notion that one of my famous crushes bothered to send me a message.
* I’ve seen them both again… and just might see them a bit more, but I’ll tell that story tomorrow.
Posted by restaurant refugee 
