As the weeks are winding down I am getting more anxious to leave. I am walking into something totally new, but I am not scared at all. My friends and family have been really great these last few months. I am happy that I was able to be in my brothers wedding because it gave me a good view of things before I left Omaha. I have struggled to settle any tattered ends of life in Omaha, of life as a young man, but I think that getting away will give me perspective into what I already know, or think I know.
Working at restaurants is such a unique experience, there is nothing really like it in the world. The customers are atrocious. The underbelly of American culture is burrowed deep in the heart of casual dining. But, the people that work at restaurants are one of a kind as well. There are many cookie cutter type people, such as: 'all buisness', 'the complete bitch (with or w/o smile on her face), we all love the christian girl who is too obtuse to really know what is going on, as well as many other people who fit into so many other molds. But, there are also many wonderful people. People who may be your best friend for the rest of your life.The other night I went out to dinner with a few of my friends. We had dinner and drinks at Bonefish Grill. Everybody was talking and picking at food and drinking, but the laughter is what resonates from that night. My love of comedy and jokes has matured over the last few years, but the way that we all connected that night and laughed; it was a truly amazing night to have before my exodus.
After dinner we all went to a cigar bar out West. Traveling through the streets of Omaha on one last night, howling into the night, I was not looking for anything but I found a little bit of closure to something. Was it a chapter of my life (corny, i know), was it the end of my youth, or was it just another day closer to...
When we arrived at the cigar bar it was closed. There must have been some musk in the air that foretold of revelry because two beautiful young women opened the door to the cigar bar. If my friend Alex and myself would have been there we would have accepted the invitation to stay. We walked into the humidor, four gringoes , two of whom had never smoked a cigar before and the other two just as wet. The girls, with Alex and myself, were browsing asking about flavors of tobacco and whether working out at the cigar bar was a good job. Of course, because of the city-wide smoking ban, business had slowed to a standstill. The two attendants were smoking cigarettes in the main room. While we were paying the two devils, crawling on our shoulders begged us to stay. Broken rules pertaining to fire hazards and health risks, would make one believe that many of the white mans rules would be thrown to the wayside by these two vixens.
Reluctantly, we left and drove to another West Omaha spot. We found a patio and I was marinating in Michael Collins Single Malt and an Acid brand cigar. We talked more about life and work and the comedy of the situation. Looking towards the sky, I sipped my whiskey and wondered if Japan would cater as much to my soul as this night in Omaha. I am in love with this city, but with any love there are problems and things that could be fixed. Hopefully, my time in Japan will allow me to gain a better understanding of my love for this city and how I fit in to what I love about this city.
