Taking A Deep Breath

This week I come to you after having ridden a roller coaster of emotions due to failure and frustration.

I always try to see the best in every situation and step back from every experience and try, in some way, to learn.  While I feel lucky to be given the opportunity to pursue my various avenues of interest here in the Big Apple I would be masking my true emotions if I said my morale hasn't taken a hit. 

First off, I was selected to do a shoot with designer Richard Chai but due to conflicts of schedule he dropped me and selected another model.  While fashion designer Richard Chai's name may or not ring any bells to my southern readers, it is a modeling opportunity I wish I could have back, to say the least. 

Another hit to the home front was taken when a blogger, Scott Joseph, came to dine at the restaurant I work for.  From what I have read, Joseph is an accomplished writer who worked for the Orlando Sentinel for 20 years and during that duration acquired a large following of readers, so I will say, he is due a little respect.  He was a ruggedly handsome man but he and his friend were quite unapproachable and cold toward me from the get go no matter how friendly I tried to be.  After dining with me he described his experience with me in his blog, stating that I am "youthful and earnest but, ultimately, inept".  We all have our moments of uncertainty and make mistakes(I found a typo in Joseph's blog about Riverpark) and that was the case a time or two as I served him and tried to answer his leading questions.  He also states in his blog that he basically had it out for Riverpark from the moment he stepped into the restaurant due to it being a Tom Colicchio restaurant, Tom Colicchio being the head judge on Bravo's reality t.v. show, Iron Chef.  Call me naive but it always amazes me that this country allows people to be paid a handsome salary for merely being opinionated of others hard work when their opinion shouldn't really matter but "ultimately" it does matter, mostly to those who get squashed in the cross fire.  This man was out to crush some fiber of Tom Colicchio's being but instead fired hateful words toward me, the unfortunate soul who had to aspire to his unattainable standards.  My upbringing was always to be mindful of others and their feelings but clearly today's dollar sign doesn't always allow for that, I consider my lesson to be learned.  I know that this next statement is immature and shows my youth but in my anger I'd gladly like to invite Mr. Joseph to N.C. to help me conduct a controlled burn, mark timber to be thinned, guide a hunt or run a tractor to see which one of us is truly "inept".  While I do not doubt that Joseph could learn how to do these things if given the proper time to do so, which leads to my point.  Seeing that I have only been working under the ethics of "fine dining" for a few weeks, not 20 years, and haven't fully learned all that is necessary to be as versed in the subject as Joseph, I feel as if the scrutiny I was put under was unfair.  But critics will be critics and I am sure that Scott Joseph has been the brunt of a bad review a time or two himself, it's one of those things that you read once and let it fall away.

On a lighter note please allow me to tell a few interesting stories.  I'm sure you've all seen or heard of the double decker buses that travel the streets of Manhattan filled to the brim with tourists so that they may feast their eyes upon one attraction after another.  One day while walking to a casting call I was wearing a cut off shirt that shows my abs, skinny jeans and a pair of really nice "rockstar boots".  A tourist on one of the infamous double-decker buses took notice to me.  He tapped his buddy on the shoulder, pointed at me and they both shamelessly stared directly at me.  A moment later a lady on the same bus noticed me until the entire bus seemed to be staring and pointing at me as if saying "look at that New Yorker wearing his odd clothing".  I inwardly laughed then decided to stop and take an exaggerated bow toward the bus which riled up the tourist even more.  It made for a funny moment that, in some peculiar way, brightened my day.  Another funny occurrence took place at Riverpark where I had three ladies in their mid 50s sitting at my table.  Upon approaching them they immediately said, "you look like Justin Timberlake but way hotter!" so for the rest of their dining experience with me they coined me J.T. and left a $100 tip after having World War 3 over who was going to pay the tab.  I am not kidding when I say that these three ladies were screaming obscenities at one another, breaking into laughter, screaming more obscenities then threatening me by saying, "if you ever want me to come back to this restaurant you'll give me that check."  Needless to say, it was comedic.  Another customer spent $1100 on food/alcohol at Riverpark Wednesday night and left their server a $300 tip, it must be nice to be able to do that!  I shared my apartment for a few days with my friend and fellow model, Louis, but he left early this morning to head back to London for his birthday.  Happy Birthday Louis!
Also, I had the Vice President of the French Culinary Institute as a customer.  He was making his first trip to the U.S. and was visiting a friend of his who, guess what, was from Salisbury, N.C.  The VP and his friend were both very delightful people.

While I don't have any interesting pictures to share this week, I do have another song.  This one is called "Sweet Lillian".  I made it up after I opened a beer and under the cap it read "cheers from sweet Lillian".

Sweet Lillian

The neon "open" sign buzzes on.  She walks in, another night alone.

Bags under her eyes from a lack of rest.  Barkeep has never seen her at her best.

The shadow of sad she carries is always evident.  He tries to cheer her up but he isn't relevant.

Even still he loves her through and through.  But all she notices is the man in the corner who's alone too.

Barkeep send that man a drink.  He utters, he's not your type I don't think.

She questions, who are you to judge.  So he delivers the drink with a twist of grudge.

Cheers from Sweet Lillian but to him she's one in a million.

The barkeep watches another day in Lillian's paradise.  Looking in all the wrong places for the right man is her only vice.

So another long night begins with fake laughs and dirty drinks.  Her short dress hiked up with insinuating blinks.

By the end of the night she can't remember his name but that doesn't matter, they're all the same.

She's hopin' to find the good ol' days but those have been chalked up to a haze.

Cheers from Sweet Lillian but to him she's one in a million.

After pouring another drink he bottles up the feelings that no one knows.  Their eyes lock and for a moment his love shows.

Watching her fearless fall to fate the earth trimmers, the ground shakes.

Tired tales to out right lies, sometimes she stops to ask herself why.

Then deviant desires rise from the ashes to her eyes where they shall remain 'til she dies

Cheers from Sweet Lillian but to him she's one in a million.