I was a dishwasher at a Bonanza steakhouse when I was in High school. It was a terrible job.
One of the busboys was an elderly black gentleman named Clyde. I didn’t understand most of what Clyde said, maybe a word or two. “Lobster, mutha fucka, & bitch ass†were some favorites. He smoked these giant joints, was always singing, and he had this infectious wheezing laughter.Â
One night, when we were closing up, some of the guys who were a little older than me tried to get Clyde to buy them some beer. Clyde sold them a wine bottle full of something homemade, it was clear and smelled like floor cleaner.
I sat out back with Clyde and we watched em drink it. It was a warm summer night. One of the guys had pulled his Monty Carlo around and had the stereo going. I Heard A Rumor by Bananarama was playing. The guys were getting pretty wild and I was beginning to get a little nervous. My father was a pretty vicious drunk. Suddenly one of them turned into a bubble and began to float off. Then one by one they all turned into bubbles and floated up and away. That Righteous Brothers song, I’ve Had The Time of My Life was playing now and Clyde just laughed his Muttley laugh and walked back inside the restaurant. All was silent except for the music. When I turned around there was a small boy standing there. He was so black, he was blue. He looked almost like a little alien king or something. He had on a bunch of fancy gold jewelry. He smiled at me and cocked his head. He held out his hands and presented me with a golden fish. For some reason I just started crying.