"Today I'm going to tell you the story about how I was almost famous." she starts.
Unlike most professors, Dr. Sauls has a very unique approach to her lectures. She doesn't use PowerPoint presentations or write on a board, she doesn't even stand up front while she speaks. I have been fascinated with her from day one. Of all the courses I am taking this semester, hers is the only one I look forward to attending.
"I want all of you to picture yourselves in my story as I talk you through this journey. Sit back, close your eyes, and focus on what I am saying. Allow me to set the scene." she says from somewhere in the back of the room.
I do as she says, closing my eyes, curious to the point she is trying to make. I hear shuffling and whispers for a few minutes. She waits patiently until eventually the entire hall quiets down.
Finally she starts again. "It's late evening, the sun is blinding me as I walk towards the train station. I admire the orange and pinks in the sky as the sun sets, trying to look past the crowds to get a better view. I use my hand to shade my face as I walk, trying to avoid colliding with anything or anyone as I rush down the road.
The streets are busy and I have a few blocks to walk still. I look at my watch and squint to focus enough to read 7:13PM. I know I'm cutting it close, thankfully I make it just in time to catch the D train before it leaves.
The train makes its way towards downtown, stopping periodically to allow people on and off. I do my best to focus on the road ahead but I can't ignore the overwhelming smell of rot that is coming from the woman behind me. I decide to stand and move forward in the car to get away from her. By the time I reach the last stop, I am dizzy and overwhelmed with nausea, my nerves building as I get closer. I stumble off the train and try to gather myself, praying for a miracle at this point.
I walk up to the back door of Charlie's and enter the employee code to unlock the door. I take off my coat and my hat, hang them on the hall tree and then quickly walk through the kitchen to punch in behind the bar. I enter my credentials into the computer to clock in just in time.
"You're here, better late than never I guess." I hear Stan call out.
"Hey Stan. I got here right on the dot. 7:45PM." The reality is hitting me as I stand here acknowledging the time. It feels like the grounds moving underneath me and all of a sudden I'm sensitive to every noise in the room.
"Joe bet that you wouldn't show. I'll admit, I was worried. You're on in less than five. Don't fuck it up." he says as he hands me a shot. "Go change and get your ass on stage."
"Don't worry, I've got this." I drink the shot in one gulp and wink at him as I walk towards the back room. It burns the back of my throat and sends shivers down my spine. I don't know what inspired me to wink at him. Who am I today? I force myself to keep moving as if it didn't happen.
I walk into the dressing room and see the suit hanging on the door. I quickly get changed and sit down with a bottle of water. I take a few sips and try to calm down. Knowing the time, I set the bottle down and look at myself in the mirror. I don't recognize my reflection, this isn't me, yet somehow I'm thrilled with what I see. This is the side of me I don't usually show the world, but tonight, I have to step out from behind the curtain and be brave. I remind myself again, I need this money, I need an out, this is it.
I close the door to the backroom and make my way up front. I walk up to the black piano on the podium in the middle of the room and sit down quickly. I take a few deep breaths in and out as I consider what I am about to do. I watch the time on my watch closely, watching the long hand tick second by second, focusing on that rhythm for timing.
My mind is racing, remembering how I got here, considering how this moment will change everything for me. This is my first time performing at Charlie's. In all the years I've worked here, I'd only ever been behind the bar. The waitstaff like to fool around after hours sometimes. Last week, I jumped up here behind the piano on a whim, not knowing anyone was around. The waiters heard me and they all went along with it improvising a new routine. I had let myself just relax and played for a while, everyone had fun that night. Stan loved it.
Fast forward to this afternoon. Stan got the call that Sasha wasn't going to be in tonight. Generally when this happens we have to play a track and it is never the same. Stan called me and practically begged me to play tonight instead, offering me Sasha's normal cut of tonight's earnings.
I declined at first but I knew this was more money than I have ever made in one night. The more I considered it the more I realized that I needed the money. This could be my out.
Stan knows me a little too well. He pushed this as my golden opportunity and I reluctantly agreed even though I was terrified. I haven't played piano in front of a crowd in a long time. Up until last week, I had not played in front of anyone since college. And never like this.
I snap back to reality and take another deep breath as the lights dim. I align my fingers on the keys and squint as the spotlight shines in my face. As I begin to play I feel my blood rush to my face as I gain the attention of the majority of the room.
I try to keep my focus on the music, closing my eyes and allowing myself to sway as I play the next few bars. I hear the waiters coming out and play a repeating chord transition into a similar tune to the one I played last week. The risk about tonight is that it is completely improvisation. None of us have practiced this.
Thankfully the dancers are catching on wonderfully and making a show of entering the room one by one, each echoing the previous entrance but making it their own. I love the jazzy feel they are creating. The spotlight creates a magical ambiance as it follows them around the tables. I let myself relax a bit as I feel the attention move to them rather than me.
I decide to transition to another style as I notice the dancers strike poses throughout the room, I start to play a quicker, more aggressive tune to which they quickly adjust their style as they move, using the four count to travel as they do it. The lights change again and everyone in the room lights up.
I feel a rush of adrenaline hit me as I continue to play, alternating the soft melody with runs inspired by an electronic tune. I mimic the song to the track Sasha performs with in terms of the beat and timing, thankfully I've watched that performance hundreds of times by now so I know it by heart. I am overwhelmed by all the emotions in the room, doing my best to let myself get lost in the music rather than focusing on my surroundings.
I feel a few of the girls get really close to me as the song is coming to a close, pulling at my suit jacket even. One of them steals my hat and gets up on the piano with it, making a show of twirling it around seductively.
As I play the last few measures, I open my eyes and stand. The girls strike a pose around me and everyone cheers. I smile a bit, realizing that despite my nerves, I kind of enjoyed that. As I exit the stage, I feel on top of the world. That is until I see who's sitting at the bar."
I hear a heavy sigh and the room stays quiet. I let my mind wander in anticipation of what happens next. After a few moments of silence, she speaks again.
"Now I'm sure you're all wondering what happens next. Don't worry, I'll finish the story, but first, you will. This is creative writing after all."
I open my eyes and shift my weight in my chair, astonished that for a moment, I truly felt like I was in that bar.
"This week's lesson is on perspective. I encourage you to consider your perspective in my story. Each and every one of you has a unique voice and I am looking forward to reading at least five pages of your take on what happens next. Remember the details I have given you. Expand on them. There is no right way to do this, only your way. Have it in my inbox by this time next week, I don't accept late work. Class dismissed." she says as she stands and grabs her bag, smiles and then leaves the room.
I sit there stunned by the journey she just took us through a few moments before gathering my stuff and leaving the lecture hall. Once I get back to my apartment I decide to sit down to scribble some notes on what I remember so I can make the most of this unique assignment.
Replaying her words, I then remember the first thing she said. I start to write:
Today I'm going to tell you a story about how I was almost famous.
…...