The Dandy Ace

The bar provided a possible solution. Chris grabbed a stack of cardboard coasters from the counter and carried them over to the unstable table. It was easy to find. All Chris had to do was follow the sound of rattling dishes and glassware. The customer trying to balance them thanked Chris. He reached out to grab the coasters, but Chris insisted on fixing the problem himself. The owner claimed it was no issue. Business was slow. After he got up off the floor, Chris asked the customer if he wanted more water. He nodded. Chris looked around for Cory, who was supposed to be his server. When he was unable to find him, Chris got the pitcher, and refilled the empty glass. Chris was glad it would not spill over his meal. Everything was even and level.
"That's enough. Thanks." The customer said.
"I should get rid of these tables. We've had them too long. They're twenty years old.”
"Oh, you don't need to do that. You really don't see tables like this anymore. All metal with the rim looking like it's art deco with these ridges.”
“I got them because I thought they looked retro."
“They are retro now.”
Chris shook his head. “Not like art deco.”
"I like them."
"How's the burger?"
The customer took a bite and gave Chris a thumbs up.
"I'm Chris."
The customer finished chewing. "Richard."
"How about this, when I get around to getting new tables, I’ll let you take one of these for yourself. Not a wobbly one. A good one."
"Uh, thanks "
***
When the door opened, Chris was looking at the tower going up across the street. He turned around to see who had come in. A group of young men stood in the entrance. A member of the party touched one of the exposed brick columns. The others followed suit.
"Those were big back then, right?" He asked them.
The other men in the group nodded.
Sasha, the hostess, asked if they needed to be seated. As soon as he heard her, Chris made a mental note. When there was a moment, he would tell Sasha to say "would like" instead. Need implied a kind of emergency he doubted would ever apply to their customers.  
"Is this Dandy Ace?" one of them asked. Chris noticed he was wearing a t-shirt for something called the Rod Stewart Museum.
"Yes, it is," Sasha said.
"Then yeah," he said while trying to stifle a laugh. "We definitely need to be seated."
***
A couple entered the restaurant and noticed Chris’ help wanted sign in the window. While they waited for a table, Chris saw them pointing to it and nodding.
"Oh, that's that font," one of them said.
"Oh my God, yeah it is."
"That ancient looking thing. The one you used to see on websites. Like every place wanted to look mysterious and old."
"He wasn't wrong."
"Papyrus!" The woman remembered. "That's it."
"Totally fits in with the theme of this place," her partner added. Sasha led them past several occupied tables and seated them under one of Chris' Jim Jarmusch posters. Chris took the water pitcher from Cory and said he would deal with the couple.
"First time here?" He asked them.
"Yes," the man said.
"I'm surprised it's this busy on a Wednesday night."
Chris smiled at the woman. "Yes, me too. Are you from the neighborhood?”
They shook their heads.
He continued. “Oh well. They’ve been building all kinds of things in the neighborhood. Thank God It’s mostly done now. People have started moving in. I thought you might be part that. It’s been good for business as you can see. It’s basically us and Mancuso’s for food. I think we’re better though.”
“Never heard of it,” the man said.
“We've been here over twenty years, you know, and I've never seen anything like it. Who thought downtown Brooklyn would get this popular, this fast?"
"I can't imagine it looking any different," the woman replied.
"Well, it did. It did. We could see the Twin Towers real clear back then." Chris paused and cleared his throat. "Just as an example of what has changed, you know."
"Of course."
"Enjoy your meal. I recommend the poppers as a starter."
The couple looked at their menus. Chris overheard them discussing the options.
"He wasn't lying," the man said. "There are poppers."
"Three different kinds too! Oh damn. But can you believe it? Just like he said. No kale or avocado at all on this menu."
"Guess they weren't invented yet?" He laughed.
***
The man in the Rod Stewart Museum t-shirt returned with a different trio of friends. Sasha seated them, Cory took their order, and Chris stood behind another one of the concrete columns to hear what they had to say. What would they find interesting now? They ignored the pylon, the posters, and the poppers on the menu. They preferred to look up at stationary disco ball hanging above them, as well as the mirrors hanging on an exposed brick wall. One of them rearranged his chair so he could look at his reflection and adjust his hair. The man in the t-shirt got his other companion's attention and pointed to the corner behind Chris.
"Is that...a horse from a merry-go-round?" He laughed.
They agreed it was.
"Like just dumped into the restaurant for no reason, like it's the circus."
Chris turned around. He looked at the multicolored equine slumped against the wall. It was skewered in the middle with a brass pole in need of polishing. His brother found it at a bankruptcy auction down on the Jersey Shore. No one else bid on it. Chris wondered about how much the horse would set him back now. It was barely vintage then. Now it was positively antique.
"Hell yeah, dude," the man in the t-shirt said. “He was totally right."
Chris stepped out from behind the column and looked at the group. "Who?"
The man was startled. "What?"
"Who was totally right about this place?"
The customer who had been checking himself in the mirror answered him. “Ricky.”
The man in the t-shirt shook his head. "Don't-"
"Ricky who?"
It was no use. He continued. “Ricky’s got this podcast. He talked about this place.
“About the Dandy Ace?"
"Hard-on County, USA," another one of the friends added.
Chris was still confused. "He's a reviewer?"
"You don't need to do anything about it," the man in the t-shirt said. "It's okay. He wasn't saying anything bad about the place."
"Oh. Are the other people here because of it?"
He looked around. "I dunno. Maybe all the single guys?"
Chris took out his phone. "I got to listen to this."
"No, you really shouldn't. Shit, Ricky's going to be pissed. He hates when the fans do this."
"What episode is it?"
"Please, really. Don’t." The music changed and the man in the t-shirt noticed it. "Oh, I know this. This is the Stokes."
Chris nodded. “Strokes.”
"God, he was right about this place."
***
When Richard came in, Chris immediately stopped folding the cloth napkins. He rushed over to him, bypassing Sasha and Cory. "Please," he nearly shouted at Richard, "come this way."
"Oh, okay."
"I remember you, right? Richard."
"Yeah, yeah, I came here before."
Chris brought him to a table right between the merry-go-round horse and a pool table covered in red felt. It had no cues or balls. Richard sat down. Chris grabbed a pitcher and poured him some water. "We've changed the menu since you came."
"Oh, okay."
"No more poppers."
"Cool."
"We have a kale Cesar now. Avocado toast."
"Uh huh."
"Unfortunately, I haven't been able to change the music yet. No Rod Stewart."
Richard put his menu down. "Look-"
"Ricky, I don't understand."
"Well, it was just this bit on the show about making up a Rod Stewart Museum because of the old joke that-"
Chris stopped him. "No, I mean what you said about the place. You dissed us. You said we're stuck in 2000, 2002. You said our food was bad, from before restaurants started getting better and looking nicer. You couldn't stop talking about that," he pointed to the horse, "without laughing. I don't get it."
" I'm sorry, man. I told the fans not to come here or cause you any issues. I really meant it as a compliment."
"A compliment? How? It sounded like you were saying the place is bad. It's old. It’s bland. It's out of date, all that."
"Yeah, no, that's why I like it." Ricky took a sip of water. "I don't mind your food. I didn't want to say it was like, inedible or anything. It's just not like everywhere else these days. All these added ingredients. Plus all the geographies and philosophies that keep getting mentioned. I don’t need to know about any of that. When I want a hamburger I just want a burger and not some backstory."
"Do you want a burger? Medium-rare?"
"I mean, sure. But that's not the point. The point is that, like, this place is a time capsule."
"How? We're only a couple years old. Go to Mancuso's down the block. That place is a real relic. You can't even get a Diet Coke there."
" This is vintage now."
"Now?"
"It's okay. Someday I'm gonna be vintage too. The podcast. Maybe all podcasts. Who knows how long this bullshit will last. You'll probably last longer than us."
"Thanks."
"And it's good you're going for a millennium theme here. Party like it's 1999 and all that."
"I didn't go with anything."
"I mean, you've kept it. You know?"
"Sure."
"It's just nice. It's nice to go to a place that takes you back to that time. The way things were and also the way we thought things would be. The early days of email and searching for stuff online. Finding random people from around the world. Webrings and midi files. Counters on the bottoms of websites. No algorithms following you. All that."
"I wouldn't know. I wasn't really into computers back then."
"Well, that's the way it was. When you wanted to find a picture to, well, when you wanted to find a picture, you had to dig it up from some weird website and you had to wait for the thing to fully load, line by line. Like a damn tapestry. But it was nice. We’re spoiled today."
"Sure."
"It was back when all we had to worry about was Y2K, and we would get angry over the dumbest shit instead. Tech had the answers. There was going to be a global village or something like that. The candy was getting bigger. The games kept getting better."
"I was just trying to keep this place afloat."
"Sure, sure. But for me and my fans, being here is like having that feeling again.”
“Which one?”
Richard looked at the horse. “Feeling it's all over. But in a good way. No more history. Just the news. God, I sound old.”
Chris smiled at Ricky, and left to put in his order for the burger.

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