The Chamber

I remember perhaps four years ago, I said an unusual prayer. I asked God to lock me in a wooden chamber, somewhere beneath a castle and to give me a lamp, some paper and a pen.

I wanted to become a slave to song. And from that room would come glorious music.

What drama. I don't know where I get these crazy ideas that have nothing to do with reality.

But I can make do with what I have. I realize I have one more week of silence before my time in Boston gets truly busy.

This Malden apartment building is certainly no castle, but it is on the bottom floor - garden level. And I am alone, as if in a chamber. So, this week, I may be in the place I need to be. I really do have to cram. I have to hold back on the fun and get some work done.

Off to doing (1) work stuff and (2) writing.

The Composer

Today was the first time in years that I actually sat down at the piano and drew notes - circles and stems - onto paper. I went to Harvard Square and walked over to the New School of Music and played the old Steinway piano for a good 3 and a half hours. But it was as if time flew by in seconds. I was so involved in finishing this work.

It wasn't an original, but an exercise for piano lessons to reharmonize a song called "Just Friends." It's rather simple and short, but the work is painstaking. When I was finished, I actually stopped in my tracks and realized that I just got through doing something that takes discipline, yet I really enjoyed. I wish I could do this more often. I think I'm on to something here. My brain was completely fried when I was through, and I realized that I don't do enough "brain-frying" in my music. I think this will become a requirement from here on out.

Nameless Cafe

I then went to a cafe called. ... I can't remember. It's "Green"-something. Its near Harvard Coop and Origins and Au Bon Pain and has a green door and awnings. Whoever reads this - don't go there.

The sign read: "Please seat yourself at a clean table." So I did. I took a booth near the window. I realize I was alone, but there were a decent number of open seats and the small tables were back in the corner.

So this waiter (perhaps a manager) comes up to me and asks, "How many in your party? Is it just you?" I say, "Yes."

"Yeah," he says in an utterly cocky tone. "Small table, please." I was floored. Then he just walks away.

I was appalled, so I walked out.

I realize the need to fill a restaurant and service as many people as possible. But I was in the cafe at 3:45 p.m., there were a fair number of empty seats and I thought it would be OK. I wasn't just going to put myself in the corner and eat their grub while having no ambience. Besides, I was just doing what the sign said to do. If they are so concerned about where people sit, they should have someone host the guests to the right tables.

Honestly, if it was a big concern, if he asked me politely to change seats, I would've done so without question. I understand these things. Perhaps most people wouldn't, but I'm a fairly flexible person.

Anyway, I'll try to take down the name of the restaurant for future reference, if anyone's interested. And after doing so, I will post heavily on a variety of restaurant review Web sites so as many people possible don't experience the same crap I went through. This guy has *no* idea who he just offended. I'll probably have to write a letter to their management, but I sense they won't really care.

So, I voted with my dollar again, and went back to the Thai Restaurant on Newbury Street. Good services pays.

Posted by ruth at July 13, 2002 05:55 PM