Mercnbeth
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“Hey man! Wake up! It’s me!”
Fuck, I dropped my glasses behind the night stand when I reached for my cell phone. I have to pick up the clock radio and hold it about 2 inches from my nose to see it is not yet 6:00am, and I’ve got an “It’s me” asshole on the phone.
“Who’s this?
“It’s the person who’s counter signing your contract today committing a few million dollars of business to you. That qualify me to wake your lazy ass up?”
“Shit Rick, its quarter to 6 what’s up?” pulling the night stand away from the wall and getting the glasses.
“Are you in the city?”
“No, the damn apartment is a disaster after this weekend’s party. I came back yesterday and I’m having it hosed out today. I was going to go there after our meeting. Why?”
“Well, that’s why I called you. I was hoping you were coming in from NJ and wanted you to bring your clubs. It’s supposed to be an amazing day man and we’ve GOT to go play and not be in an inside conference room. We can’t expect too many more days like this for the rest of the year.”
Perhaps remembering that not everyone in the house was a golfer who appreciated perfect golf weather he asked; “Sorry for calling so early did I wake you’re wife?”
“Don’t know – she’s back in ‘her room’; thank god. I was hoping to get away before I had to see, or worse yet, hear her this morning. I was planning to get to my office in the City and meet you at 8:30. I was going to drop off some more clothes at the apartment afterwards and try to get to the Yankee game tonight.
But you know me - Golf always sounds good; but what about the contract? It’s up in a couple of weeks. We were supposed to finalize it today. My lawyer told me your people had some amendments and procedure changes to discuss.”
“No problem man, that’s just lawyers wanting to justify their fees. I talked with the Board and they don’t know how you can do the work this cheap so there was no way they wanted to take the program internally. They’re ready to renew as written. If you’re good for that; I’ll bring it with me.”
“Well hell, I was hoping to at least negotiate a better office to sub-lease from you instead of the no-view closet you conned me into taking a couple of years ago when I thought just having an office in your building ‘cool’. But it has been a pain in the ass getting through security. Besides, what’s the use being so high up when you don’t have a window to enjoy the view?
However, you had me at ‘Golf Today?. Let me jump in the shower. Where are we going?” thinking this is setting up to be a great day.
“Here’s my idea. I’ve got to go into the office, pick up the contract, and do a little work. Don’t come now, plan on getting here about 10 or 11. Call me when you’re crossing the Verrazano and I’ll leave and meet you at my club.”
“Now wait a minute, that short shitty course or yours always costs me money!” thinking about the last day I spent there in the trees and weeds. “I think you got ten bucks from me last time. You just like it because you can’t hit your driver more than 200 yards off the tee. Well, that and the company pays for your membership.” feigning disgust.
“They do that instead of paying me to live well like you in Jersey. I’ll be bringing your happy ass a couple Million dollar contract; you can afford it!”
Always negotiating I said; “Okay, but how about this, I think Clemens is pitching tonight – bring the company tickets with you and you’ve got a deal.
“You drive a hard bargain.” He said laughing. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do; but you’re buying the beer.”
“DEAL" I said, adding "And the overall loser on the course today buys dinner. Tell your wife you’re staying at my place in the city.”
“No – That’s a good idea, but I’ll save that for a phone call later. She thinks you’re a bad influence on me so better to leave that as a cell phone message once we’re stuck in traffic after the game. Besides I just got this brainstorm seeing the sun come up. I’m already in the car heading in and she was sleeping. I doubt she even knows I’m gone.”
Shit, I hear the ‘bitch’ stirring around. I’ll see you later.” lowering my voice to a whisper and getting ready to close the flip phone; thinking to myself that my wife would be the dictionary picture represented as the exact opposite of Rick's wife, especially on the 'fun' front.
“Later!” was the last thing I heard, before the nails on the chalkboard voice of my wife saying; “Who the fuck was that calling so damn early in the morning?”
“Business – my meeting got postponed. Don’t have to go in right now. It’s rescheduled for early afternoon.”
“Good, I’ve got a migraine coming and feel all swollen; you can get the damn kids ready for the bus. Make sure your son remembers his lunch this time, because I’m not driving it to him if he forgets again.”
Yeah, I thought, that mile and a half drive to school must really cut into your busy schedule of soap operas, bonbons, and gossiping with your friends on the phone.
“I suppose you’re staying at your apartment tonight too right? Another party while I have to deal with the kids and dinner? BTW – when the maids where here yesterday they said the central vac needs cleaning out, do that before you go. I’m going back to bed.”
Well, that went well. I missed our usually morning ‘sexual’ encounter; exchanging ‘FUCK YOU’s while passing each other’s closet.
In the bathroom, I showered to the growing tired of humor of Howard Stern; which triggered pulling out some new CD’s for the car’s CD selection for the ride into the City.
It was about 7 when I made sure the kids were getting dressed and headed down to make breakfast; poached eggs for the boy, a ‘to go’ scrambled egg & cheese, for the girl. He down first, doing homework which didn’t get down last night at the breakfast table. Some coffee for me, while the eggs cooked, writing a standard ‘secret note’ for each of them in their lunch bags. My daughter, the mature high school student, catches me and fakes begin upset, saying that it embarrasses her when she pulls out a napkin at her lunch table with ‘LOVE YOU!”, or “BE GOOD!” or some other message written on it from her dad. Bur her smile gives her away and I tell her that I hope she passes on the same tradition to kids of her own. “Besides” I tell her; “you don’t seem to mind when I put in a couple extra bucks in the bag too. You lose the note, you lose the cash.”
The boy, the silent one, insures the conversation dies by telling her to “SHUT UP!”
All in all – a great morning, a routine morning, at the house; the weather contributing to both of them being able to get outside to the bus stop a few minutes earlier than usual.
About quarter to eight I try my office. I knew my manager would be there getting the mail ready for processing. She knew I was heading into the City but expected I’d be back. I wanted to be sure there wasn’t anything critical for me to sign or some meeting I had forgotten for later in the day.
Confirming what I already knew, there wasn’t. She said good luck. I told her I’d be in the office tomorrow afternoon.
I went into the garage to try and determine which driver to pack in the bag. Golf, and getting the latest equipment, was both a religion and a fetish. I had many brands and varieties of clubs from which to choose. I’d been trying the new ‘hybrid’ clubs due to my affinity of routinely missing fairways; and I thought it would be a good choice for Rick’s short and skinny private club. Grabbing a few ‘old balls’; I tried out the new club and whacked a few into the corn field behind the house. Felt good, and it seemed easy to use; the ball going low, straight and surprisingly, where I aimed it! Of course this was in my backyard, and my ‘aim’ wasn’t a flag sitting 200 yards away with a 25 cent bet involved.
With the last ‘perfect’ drive into the field, I got ready to go. Feeling great not only for thinking I had ‘the’ perfect club for the course; but because I managed not to see my, in name only, wife again that morning. I packed my clubs into the ‘4 body sized’ truck of my 740il; got in and with Springsteen’s constipated sounding voice blaring from the car’s sound system, pulled the car out of the garage and left my house.
What a GREAT day it was. Uniquely beautiful in a way you can only appreciate if you’ve lived in NJ all your life to know its rarity! It was 8:30 on that uncommon, NJ day under a glorious clear blue sky. Soon thereafter my 97th floor office in the South Tower would be at ground level in lower Manhattan, but I wouldn’t know it for at least another hour when I finally turned off Bruce to try and make a phone call to tell Rick I was stuck in a ridiculous traffic jam on the NJ Turnpike above New Brunswick. I remember seeing the smoke off to the right and thinking how bad it looked against the perfect blue sky backdrop. I wondered why, once again, the dump on Staten Island had caught fire. It had to be the dump. What else over in that direction could generate so much smoke? You couldn’t even see the Towers.
I was pissed because my cell didn’t have service and I couldn’t get through to Rick or my office to try to get a message to him. I can remember being so upset for the damn traffic inconvenience. I turned on the radio and heard news, from Howard Stern of all people, which told me the smoke I saw wasn’t coming from the dump.
It took another 5 hours before I was able to turn around and head home from a day planned to include a golf game that I would never get to, a Yankee game that would never occur, and a round of golf with friend I’d never hear or see again.
It was September 11, 2001.
“Later!” You never know how much later that can be. I hope you’re hitting them straight Rick!
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