I finally came clean with The Coral Cafe, particularly with the management. It had been an open secret with Peter and some of the staff for a while. As much as I thought it was cool to keep it clandestine, it’s been going on for 6 months. It was time to let them in on what I’ve been doing.
They knew I was the guy who met with strangers on Sundays, but they didn’t know about the recaps, or “episodes”. They had no idea that I was writing about my experience. I told Peter that I do mention him a lot and that he’s becoming more of the narrative. He smiled and said, “Cool,” while nodding his head. Again, not a man of many words.
The response was positive from everyone I spoke with. The restaurant IS part of the experience, and now having everyone on board feels right.
However, it does lose some of the intrigue and that moment of recognition that I’ve been accustomed to. Having the staff involved does make it a little more enjoyable and can help ease the nerves a bit. So I’m fine with the trade-off.
You can now just walk up to Peter and tell him you’re here to meet a stranger. He’ll take care of the rest.
Which is exactly what my latest stranger did. I believe she said to Peter, “Are you my stranger?” and he replied, “No, but I can take you to him.”
Thankfully, the moment of recognition wasn’t completely lost with this new arrangement. It just shifted slightly. You can still see that nervousness fade and the faces light up.
She approached the table, gave me a big hug (points), and sat down.
There was a sneaky coolness about her.
I pictured her as the bass player for an ultra-hip, underground band. Like the kind that plays invite-only speakeasys and Echo Park Rising.
I was dead wrong. She laughed and bashfully said, “I wish…” when I revealed my first impression.
We engaged in the ritual chit-chat while reviewing the menu. She ordered the Nutella French Toast (bonus points) and an iced tea. I had my “regular” - French Toast, black coffee, and a side of fruit.
We dove feet first into the conversation. She had a soft confidence and an air of grace that made her very easy to be around. Although we were decades apart in age, we had a lot in common. I find this to be evident when talking with younger people, and I believe we underestimate their depth.
The conversation was lively and all over the place. We went from one topic to the next as they came up naturally. Her journey to the table was remarkable. Listening to her story, I wondered how this person survived a Den of Thieves for so long and seemingly unscathed.
As her story progressed, and I got past the whole bass player thing, I started seeing her in a different light. She was bright and articulate. I could see that there was a “come hell or high water” passion driving her. It became clear to me how she made her way through it all.
Holden took this opportunity to chime in, “She’s The Insider”, I heard in my head. It made me laugh a little bit, and she looked at me strangely. “Holden called you ‘The Insider.’” I said. She took it in stride. “Well, I don’t know about that…” she replied slyly.
We had realized that we had been talking for almost 2 hours and that we should wrap it up. She covered the bill (more bonus points), and we went out to the parking lot to talk a little more. Eventually, it was time to say goodbye. We took a selfie and hugged one more time.
As I walked back to my car, I heard Holden’s voice in my head, “She’s way cooler than a bass player…”
I had to agree.
