I Will Sing for You - 1. To Friendship!

Monday

I enter the Saguaro Grill and stand at the reception dais. The young man tending bar looks up, then quickly rounds the bar, flashing me a warm smile as he approaches. That and his handsome Latino features immediately draw my attention.

“A table for one?” he asks. I notice from the nameplate on his breast that his name is Chris.

I look around. It’s late afternoon, approaching early evening and business is light. While I had planned to eat at a table in the restaurant, I immediately scrap that idea and instead ask, “May I order a meal at the bar?”

He smiles, eyes glistening. “You certainly may. Please seat yourself and I’ll bring you a menu.”

I seat myself and seconds later he places a menu on the bar in front of me and says, “I’ll give you some time to look it over.”

“Well, I know for sure that I want a Kilt Lifter Ale,” I smile, noticing that it’s one of the choices on draft.

“Good choice,” he smiles. He’s small in stature and attractively slim, I observe as he steps away to fill my request. I guess 5-foot-7 or 8-inches in height and 130-135 pounds, waist size 28-30. As he bends over to remove a glass from the cooler below the bar, I focus on his butt, liking what I see.

He appears to be young—younger than my twenty-three years anyway. I pull out my cell phone and type: minimum age to bartend in Arizona. I get back: The minimum age to bartend in Arizona is nineteen, but can vary by county. Since Pima County has an ample population of college-aged kids because of the University of Arizona, I figure that its minimum age is nineteen as well, so I guess him to be nineteen, twenty at the most.

“Have you decided?” I hear a moment later as he sets the ale on a coaster before me. I look up from the menu to see him smiling at me, pen and pad in hand. I return his smile, captivated by his soft, yet distinct brown eyes and the soft, sensual tone of his voice. Could he possibly be like me? Getting that vibe, I decide to keenly observe him in hopes that he is.

“I’ve been pre-occupied with my phone,” I smile. “May I have another moment or so?”

“Of course. Take your time,” he smiles. “I have a couple waiting to be seated, so I’ll see to them and be back.” So he’s bartender, host and waiter all rolled into one, I muse as I return his smile. Probably will be until happy hour and the dinner business picks up.

“Thanks… um, Chris.”

He mutely nods and smiles, then makes his way to the man and woman who are standing at the reception dais. I follow him with my eyes as he leads them into the dining room. No clue in the way he walks or in his mannerisms.

“Have you decided?” I hear, pulling me from my phone minutes later. Again, it’s Chris with pen and pad in hand.

“I have,” I reply with my most appealing smile. “I think I’ll have the angel hair pasta with the green pea & basil sauce, mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes.”

“I haven’t had it, but I’ve heard that it’s very good,” he replies, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. “But then everything that this chef prepares is very good. I’ll get your order to him immediately. It shouldn’t be long since business is slow.”

“Thank you,” I reply, returning his beaming smile.

“Can I draw you another Kilt Lifter?” Chris asks after tendering my order.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” I smile after quickly downing the little bit of ale left in my glass and then handing it to him.

“So, are you staying at the Four Points on your way to somewhere else?” he asks as he places another full glass on the coaster before me. His question doesn’t surprise me since the hotel is mere minutes from the airport.

“Oh, no. I live in Tucson,” I’m quick to reply. “Well, actually I’m from Kansas City and attending the University of Arizona. But after slightly less than two semesters I’ve grown to love it here. Anyway, I heard that the food at the Saguaro Grill is excellent, so I wanted to try it.”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed,” he smiles.

Oh, I’ve already determined that, I think to myself as I gaze into his captivating brown eyes and return his smile.

“So, what are you studying?” he asks, appearing to be genuinely interested.

“I’m working on my Ph.D. I’m a geologist.”

“No wonder you like it here so much; with all the mountains in Arizona, there are so many opportunities to study the rocks.”

“Yeah, but my interest covers a much broader scale, like the mechanics that make the Arizona-Sonora desert what it is today and how it had evolved over the last, say, two billion or so years.”

“And the rocks can tell you that?”

“On multiple scales, yes.”

“How interesting… So I guess you won’t be stuck in an office, huh.”

I chuckle. “Not if I can help it. I love being outdoors, in the field. It’s my element so to speak.”

His smile appears sincere when he says, “Well, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, Chris.” At that moment a tone sounds near the register.

“Your meal is ready,” he says, then leaves me. I’m thankful that that there is very little business to interrupt our conversation because I want to learn as much as I can about him. I would definitely like to see more of him—acquaintance-wise, that is. It’s the best I can hope for at this point in time.

A moment later Chris places my meal before me and says, “I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will,” I smile.

“So what about you, Chris? What are your plans for the future?”

He gives me another killer smile and says, “I’m nearing the end of my first year at Pima Community College.”

“Which campus?”

“West.”

“Hm… That’s a ways from here. I assume that this is your regular job while going to school?”

“It is. I work 25 hours a week and carry a fifteen-hour course load.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been able to manage it so far, and I get good grades.”

“Do you live at home or on your own?”

“At home, but I want to move out on my own. I’m saving for it.”

“Have you chosen a major?” I ask.

“Yes, music. I play keyboard and guitar.”

I beam hearing that. “Really? I play guitar too. How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was fifteen,” he replies. “I’ve played piano since I was ten.”

“Which means that you’ve been playing for…”

“I’m nineteen, so I’ve been playing guitar for four years and the piano for nine. How long have you played guitar?”

“Since I was twelve. I’m twenty-three now, so eleven years. I played in a mediocre rock band when I was in high school.”

“So that means you’re probably really good. Better than me, anyway.”

“You’re as good as the amount of time that you spend practicing,” I smile. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

“Funny,” he smiles. “You know my name but I don’t know yours.”

“That’s because I lack proper etiquette, for which I am heartily sorry, Chris. it’s Callan. Callan Jameson. I’m honored to meet you,” I say shaking his hand which is strikingly delicate to me, as well as his grip.

“Chris Villar,” he offers. “And I’m honored to meet you too, Callan Jameson.

“So, I’ve been told that management is planning to host live music in the bar three nights a week from 9:00 o’clock until midnight. Would you be interested?”

“Hm… I’ve never considered anything like that, Chris. I could probably make the time if it pays enough. Do you have any idea what that might be?”

“No, but I could give the manager your name and telephone number and you can ask him when he calls you.”

“Sure. I’ll do that, Chris. I would have to quickly hone my skills and create a set. Would I be playing all three nights?”

“I think he plans to hire two people who would alternate nights and split performances on Saturday night.”

“That would certainly make it easier for me, give me more time to hone my guitar playing skills and learn some new songs to incorporate in a set.”

What an opportunity! It would allow me to spend time with Chris and form a friendship, maybe even more if I’m lucky. Since I’d be seeing him a couple of times a week and because we both play the guitar, it would just be a matter of time before we would end up playing together. He could teach me songs that he knows and I haven’t learned and more about music theory, which I’m sure that he knows, and I could teach him songs that I know and he hasn’t learned. A four-year age difference wouldn’t be an insurmountable barrier to forming a friendship. And if more is meant to happen, then seeing each other regularly will surely get us there.

“Thank you, Chris. Thank you very much for thinking of me. I really appreciate it.”

“Well,” he smiles, “I guess you could say that I have a motive. I can hear you play, and maybe when you have time and I have time we can get together and play.”

“I’d really like that, Chris. It appears that I’ve made a friend this evening.” I raise my glass and toast, “To friendship!”

He smiles another smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes. “To friendship. Now I should get back to work and my other customers.”

After that, I simply watch as Chris performs his roles of bartender, host and waiter until it’s time for me to go home, a very happy guy.