The Altar of Her Love

"Yeah, you're right. There is a lot of history to this place. I came here the first time during my freshman year, when John still owned it.... John's my boss, by the way. He's the guy who started this place quite a few years back, and now he owns it again, and so hopefully, we can restore it to the kind of place it was back when your cousin and sisters were here."

From out of nowhere, she tossed in a non sequitur. "What are you studying, Mr. Hitchens?" She looked at me like she was actually interested in knowing.

"Please call me, Tom." I said with embarrassment. The formality made me feel like she was talking to my father. Though I was clearly a few years her senior, I didn't feel like I was old enough to be "Mr. Hitchens." "I'm not studying anything. I'm just working here. I quit school." I stared back at her with a kind of sheepish grin on my stupid face and marveled at how quickly she had turned the tables on me. It was almost as if she was interviewing me, rather than the other way around.

"What were you studying?" I stared back at her again. I don't know if her questions were calculated or not, but if there was any doubt that I was going to hire her, her interest in me had dispelled it.

"Well, I guess that was the problem. I didn't know what I wanted to do, so I just took any class that sounded interesting... mostly English and lit courses. I thought at first I wanted to be a writer, but what the...." I was about to use a word that was a well-worn staple of my vocabulary, but then I thought better of it. I hesitated. "...heck was I going to write about? I decided maybe I needed to do some living before I put my lame, life experiences down on paper. Anyway, when I do go back to school, I think I'll probably go into teaching -- maybe high school English."

"English, huh? That's my major, and I want to teach, too!"

"Oh yeah! Well, maybe I can tell you which professors to take and which ones to avoid. I think I've taken almost every course the English department has to offer. Then again, you probably already know all about the English profs." I paused and looked her up and down again, studying her face with stunned fascination at how quickly she had disarmed me.

I steered the conversation back to the interview questions that I was planning to ask, but quite frankly, I don't think I even heard most of her responses after that. All I could do was stare at her and take in her beauty from top to bottom -- the long, shimmering chestnut brown hair; delicate, dark eyebrows; these sad, blue Irish eyes that, nonetheless, seemed to smile no matter what expression she had on her face; the pale, perfectly creamy skin with just a hint of rosiness about cheekbones; her dimples, and her little button of a nose.

But it was those lips! Jesus... I couldn't get over those lips! It was like I had died and gone to heaven! All I could think about was brushing my own kissers up against them. I sensed that if I ever had the good fortune to kiss Erin Kemp, I would never stop kissing her, and just the thought that there was any possibility of those pink, plump, perfect, fleshy folds wrapped around me just about made me cum in my pants!

I had never seen anything that so beguiled and hypnotized me. I swear no one had lips that puffy and soft! I don't know how I knew it, but the first second I laid eyes on Erin, I knew she would be the best kisser in the known universe. I just had to figure out a way to get her to want my lips the same way I wanted hers. That, I knew, might take some time and could very well get me into fair amount of trouble -- that is, if I was her boss, and she was my subordinate.

I did have the presence of mind to ask one more relevant question that I hadn't really intended to ask. I don't know exactly why I brought it up, but considering the drawing card for Hector's was live music, I suppose it made sense to want to know. I ended up asking the same question to every one of the applicants. "What kinds of music do you like, Erin? That is, if you like music. Maybe I shouldn't presume that you do."

She got a big smile on her face, and those dimples made another appearance, like maybe I had struck the right chord with my question. "Well, I like a lot of stuff -- my tastes are fairly eclectic -- but most of what I'm interested in is not really popular stuff, at least not now. I like older things, like early rock 'n' roll, rhythm and blues, and Motown soul, stuff like that. I don't listen to very much current commercial music, and I hardly ever listen to the radio. There's just one exception...." I didn't intend to follow up on my first extemporaneous inquiry, since all I really wanted to know was that music mattered to her, that it mattered to all of the people that I was going to hire. Anyway, I asked, and I'm glad I did because I was intrigued by what I was about to hear.

"Who's that? Who's the exception?"

Her face lit up like the Fourth of July. "Bruce Springsteen! I just adore that guy. I think he's really talented -- an excellent guitar player who writes spectacularly great songs, and it strikes me that he's just a really kind, decent, empathetic human being, like he really cares and all. And... well, I probably shouldn't say this, but I just think he's so handsome! I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'd give just about anything to kiss that man!" She started blushing, not like she was embarrassed by what she'd said, but rather because she was turned on by her own daydream. Wow! I thought to myself. The Boss has the same effect on Erin that she has on me!

Though at the time I hadn't listened to Springsteen for quite a few years, I did admire him a lot, and I have to say, as far as I was concerned, every one of her accolades about him was spot on. I figured it couldn't hurt my cause to say that I liked him too, but I also had to be honest. It's my curse.

"I think those first two albums are really, really great records. And I know it's not fair to him -- he deserves every bit of success that he's achieved -- but I just wish he hadn't gotten famous! I saw him right after Born to Run, and that record just ruined him for me. I haven't really listened to him since then."

"You've seen him! I'm so jealous!"

"Yeah, me and about 25,000 other people! I can't stand seeing bands 'in concert' like that, even if I like them." I surprised myself by actually using air quotation marks. "After that show, I never bought another record by him. When it comes to really successful artists, an old friend of mine likes to say, 'they don't need my money', and that's pretty much the way I feel, too."

She looked at me really seriously for a couple of moments, and for a little while, I wondered if I had offended her. I thought maybe I had ruined any chance I might have had by insulting her hero, which was not my intention at all. Apparently, I was wrong about that, and her response confirmed it.

"I agree with you about those first two records. "Greetings from Asbury Park" and "The Wild, the Innocent, & the E Street Shuffle" are my two favorites, too. I just love his imagery, especially on that first record."

I didn't say anything for quite a while. I thought maybe I had allowed the conversation to become a little too personal, and that that was sort of unprofessional on my part. I looked at the Old Style clock behind the bar, and realized my next candidate would be arriving any minute now. I knew that there was no doubt that I was going to hire Erin Kemp, but I didn't want to give that away, so when I did I respond, it was to bring the interview to a conclusion.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Erin." I said, reaching out to shake her warm hand. "I will be in touch with you in the next week or so, one way or the other. We hope to be open by the last week of the month, so I want to have all of my staff hired by the 15^th. Then, we'll begin training. I presume the phone number on your resume is the best way to reach you?"

"Yes, and I have an answering machine if I'm not home. Please feel free to leave a message. Thank you for the opportunity to talk you, Tom. It was really nice to meet you." She flashed me a big, wide smile.

"Nice to meet you, too, Erin. Have a good day, and try to stay warm, okay?"

She smiled really brightly again, and reached for her sweater and then the rest of her winter apparel. I went back to my ladder and moved it to the next wall sconce, and climbed back up. When she finished bundling up, Erin walked to the front door and as she pushed her way back out into the chill, she turned back to me and said "Bye" with a smile and a wave.

I finished the interviews that day, and continued conducting more interviews over the next week or so, and then I called the candidates references. I let John see my notes on all of the applicants' resumes and the reference calls and asked for some input from him on whom he thought I should hire. When he saw Erin's application, he agreed that she appeared to be a good candidate. In all, I decided on 20 people.

Erin was the first person I called back with a job offer -- 20 hours a week, as many hours as I was allowed to offer any one employee. She answered the phone with sincere excitement. She had no way of knowing who was calling, so it was kind of nice knowing that that enthusiasm was a genuine aspect of her personality. I identified myself, and told her I was happy to offer her a position at a specific hourly rate. I told her if she needed a day or two to decide whether or not to accept, I would understand.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Tom! I don't need to wait! I'll take it! You don't know how happy this makes me! I promise you; you won't regret this!"

"I know I won't, Erin! I'm sure of that!" No truer words were ever spoken. "Can you come in next Monday at 5:00 p.m.? I'll have all of the paperwork ready for you to sign, and then we'll start in on the training. I'm really hoping that I can have everybody here on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night from 5:00 to 8:00. We plan to open the doors on Friday night, a week from tomorrow, for the first time. Will that work for you?"

"Absolutely! That's perfect! I will see you on Monday night at 5:00! I'm looking forward to it!"

"All right, then! I'll see you on Monday. Oh, and Erin, welcome to Hector's!" I hung up, and I think I was looking forward to Monday night more than she was. I ended up calling about 35 other people that day, offering them the good or the bad news. Then, once I had my staff solidified, I made the work schedule for the next month.

Monday night rolled around, and I was all ready to start training my new employees. We were adding some food items to the menu -- simple stuff like sandwiches that we could make easily -- so I had teach people about handling food, and other kitchen protocols. We also had a license to distribute beer to go, though there wasn't much to that part of the business -- everybody just had to know which coolers held the six-packs and cases we sold, and how much each cost.

Most of the training just involved teaching people how to use the cash registers, tap beer kegs, and mix certain kinds of drinks, even though we knew we would mostly just sell draft beer. That had always been Hector's specialty -- cheap beer, served by the pint or the pitcher.

Considering that, I spent a fair amount of time talking about glassware -- what glasses we used, and how to wash all of them, with special emphasis on the importance of busing tables and washing glasses as quickly as possible.

Hector's business model was serving people quickly and never running out of glasses, because when you have hundreds of people to serve, having glasses ready to be filled is critically important. On those really crazy nights when there were simply too many people to provide a glass to every patron, we were equipped with plastic cups, but we only wanted to use those things if we had no other choice. A lot of people, including myself, didn't like to drink out of them.

Mostly, though, the training was really about attitude, trying to get the employees to set the right tone for the place. Hector's had to win back the people that had started going to other establishments either because they liked those other places better than they liked Hector's or because they couldn't go to Hector's since it had been closed for almost six months. Either way, we knew we had a bit of an uphill climb.

Finally, though, we were ready to open the doors. John did some advance advertising, and our grand re-opening was scheduled for Friday night, January 25^th. I had a gentleman's agreement with The Phat Larry's to play on that Friday and the following Saturday night. I got the bass player Kirk and the lead guitar player Adam to consent to play for just tips. I promised them that I would get on their PA myself to encourage the audience to tip them generously.

I was as upfront with those guys as possible, because I liked them both a lot. I explained that John wasn't sure about the kind of music they played and how it would be received at Hector's, but I assured them that I had no such reservations. I told them I was confident that we could make it work.

They, in turn, promised me that every one of their friends and acquaintances would be there on both nights -- they thought at least two hundred people or so, and if we could pull in an equal number of patrons ourselves, there would be a good crowd for the opening weekend. They also said that all their friends would be dancing up a storm, so anybody else that was in attendance would be encouraged to do the same.

I had a good supply of employees on hand that first night, and Erin was among them. I wanted to make sure that everything went well, and if we had a few too many people staffed, well, that would be a whole lot better than if we were unprepared for our first night.

John said he was going to stop by later that evening to see how things were going, and he made it clear that he would be there to hear the band. He promised me that he would offer me a verdict on my little experiment before the weekend was over.

We opened the doors at 5:00 p.m., and things were a bit awkward for the first two and a half hours or so. A couple of dozen people came in during that time, mostly to just look around at what we'd done to the place and toss back a few beers in the meantime.

A few people ordered sandwiches, and I was happy about that because food was the real moneymaker, much more so than beer. I was also glad that John wasn't coming until later, because I was nervous as hell that that night could very well spell my demise. By seven o'clock we had one employee working for every two customers and only about $30 worth of sales revenues in the till. At that rate, we weren't even going to cover the staffing overhead.

Hector's had never charged a cover charge for entertainment. The whole idea was to have enough people in the place that whatever revenues were generated from the sale of food and drink, they would more than offset expenses. Not having to pay the band was a big plus, but that didn't matter without people, and a lot of them.

But a little before 8:00 p.m. things started picking up, and by nine -- right before the band was about to start -- there were well over 200 people in the place. Kirk and Adam and the other guys were dressed in their full punk rock regalia, and unlike me, they didn't show a bit of nervousness. They were having more fun just setting up than any band I'd ever seen before in my life.

I'd seen The Phat Larry's a couple of times before that, so I knew the stuff in their repertoire -- a lot of Ramones, Clash, Jam, Elvis Costello, and B-52s covers, interspersed with a few golden oldies like Bobby Fuller's "I Fought the Law," and Richie Valens' "La Bamba", a song Adam insisted was the first punk rock tune ever written. They also threw in a few originals and some surf rock send-ups. By the time, John and his wife Gwen walked in the door a little before 10:00, I swear the place was rockin' like the good ol' days!

The Phat Larry's put on an incredible show that night. The crowd loved them, and not just their friends that had shown up for support, but pretty much everybody. They did enough songs that people recognized so that even if that particular music wasn't their cup of tea, most everyone found it really fun and entertaining.

We figured out that we had over 900 people in the place when John walked in, and I swear at least half of them spent the better part of the evening dancing their asses off, and when they weren't dancing, they were drinking. We made good money for any Friday night, and considering it was our opening night, it exceeded everyone's expectations.

For the next hour or so, John and Gwen and I stood around the side of the back bar, where we could watch the band and still keep an eye on the people being served. I could tell John was trying to gauge everything that was happening, but it was clear that The Phat Larry's, in particular, had gotten his attention. Before they finished their first set, John had already given me the thumbs up. We'd just found a sort of house band for Hector's.

After two or three songs, John shouted his approval through the din of crunching guitars and thumping drums. "You were right, Tom! These guys are great! The crowd loves them, and I'm just really impressed with how many people they drew for an opening night. I almost feel like paying them for tomorrow; God knows they deserve it! Still, let's wait on that until we find out if they can pull in as many people as they did tonight. Go ahead and book them for the next six months. If they can keep this up, I'm happy to keep bringing 'em back." He paused for a minute or so, and then turned to me again with a big smile. "Jesus, Tom, this just like it was a few years after I opened the place! We could count on a thousand people every Friday and Saturday night, and I was making money hand over fist!"

We watched for several more songs, and John was keeping a close eye on the bar now, specifically the people on my staff. Right before they were about to leave, John leaned over to shout in my ear over the music, "Tom, who's that girl behind the bar? The brunette?"

It was clear who he was talking about. "Her name's Erin, Erin Kemp. Why do you ask?" I answered.

"She's really good, Tom. I've been watching her with the customers. She's really friendly, but she's also efficient as hell. Listen, you're gonna need an assistant manager. Take a look at all of your people over the next month or so, and then pick out the one that you think you can trust the most and works the hardest. From what I've seen tonight, she'd be a good choice, but, of course, I'll leave that up to you." He paused again, and then a few minutes later, he told me he and Gwen were leaving. As he was shaking my hand goodbye, he said with effusive praise, "You did a helluva job, Tom! Congratulations! I couldn't be happier!"

Saturday night went even better than Friday, and the word on the street that next week was that Hector's had been resurrected from the ashes. We had figured out that we drew over a thousand people on Saturday night, and when I told John that when he called about midnight, he told me to slip the boys some money after the gig. He wanted to show some good faith and didn't want them looking for another place in town to play.

After we'd locked the doors and my people were just cleaning up and restocking, I pulled Kirk and Adam aside. They were just finishing loading their gear in their van which was parked behind the stage door. I handed them $500 and thanked them for two great nights. They were overjoyed and grateful.