This week, after reading Hills Like White Elephants, I was supposed to write an emotional moment that I’ve shared with someone in my life. I decided to write about good friends of mine, John and San, and how we all felt when our other friend Brian died in a freak accident.
When I was 16, I got my first job at a restaurant called Pepperoncinis. It was a small corner restaurant with a small staff. Everyone who worked there had the perfect amount and type of crazy where we all connected and were our own little family. Whenever we had a new hire, if they didn’t mix with everyone’s crazy (along with their work ethic), they were sent on their way. About 2 years into working there, we had a new guy named, Brian. He was quiet and kept to himself and everyone had a hard time trying to figure him out. Most of his training and early days took place on Sundays, Tuesdays,and Fridays which were days that I worked too, so out of any other employee, I worked with him the most. I’ve always been very good at reading people and figuring them out just by watching their actions and mannerisms, and listening to everything they'd say. The first thing I noticed about Brian was how colorful and extensive his vocabulary was. Even though he didn’t talk much to us at first, the little bit that he would say to us or when I’d listen to him talking to a table, he would throw in creativity and thought into the words he used that sometimes would make you turn your head in intrigue for his choice of language, even in the simplest of sentences. The second thing I noticed was that we had a similar love of music. Sunday’s at work were the best days to work. My manager, John, and another server, San, were all very close and always looked forward to our Sundays together with just the three of us. Sundays were our days of therapy where’d we tell each other the crazy shit that customers did all week and we’d take over the jukebox and play whatever songs our hearts desired (within reason) and jammed out. During the busier months, there would be a fourth person on and for a while that was Brian. That’s when the three of us got close with him. We were able to break Brian out of his shell and learned a lot about him. He got his degree in theatre, he loved to sing- like would belt the shit out of songs we’d play on the jukebox- and he was just all around an awesome and hilarious guy. Once Brian stopped working on Sundays, he’d come in and have some drinks and hang out with us since he lived less than a block down the street. On the very rare occasion I would take off of work, and I asked Brian to cover me on Sunday, August 31st. The next afternoon, my phone started ringing. It was my boss, Paul, “Hello?” I answered slightly puzzled because Mondays were Paul’s days off. “Hey, Jess, do you have a minute?” “Yeah, what’s up?” “I don’t even know how to say this but Brian was found dead in an alleyway this morning.” About a minute of silence passed while I was trying to figure out if he was fucking with me or not. “What?!” I stuttered. “What the fuck happened?!” “I’m not 100% sure yet, the police called me this morning to ask questions about if he was working last night and when he left. They’re not giving me too much information.” “Have you told John and San yet?” “John knows. You know San, he won’t wake up until 4 the earliest.” We talked for a few more minutes. When I hung up, I just stood still for about 5 minutes trying to figure out if what just happened was real. The next day is when we got the announcement that Brian’s funeral would be September 5th at Our Lady of the Assumption church in Wayne. About seven of us from Peps attended the funeral. After family and friends took turns going up to the podium and speaking about Brian, I looked on either side of me and saw everyone’s tear soaked faces. The last person to speak was the choir teacher Brian had throughout school. When he was finished speaking, he announced that the choir was going to perform the song that Brian had sung at his graduation. A few seconds later, I heard the beginning of “Soulshine” by the Allman Brothers Band start to play. I’m the type of person who doesn’t cry in front of other people, but looked over at San and John, who looked over at me simultaneously and I nearly lost my shit when that song started to play because I knew from all of our “Sunday night jukebox take-overs” is that song was one of Brian’s favorites. In that moment, even though the song is only six minutes long, it felt like time stood still for an hour. Still to this day, whenever I hear that song, I get chills and think of Brian. After the funeral, all of the “Peps peeps” went across the street to a bistro to grab a few drinks in honor of Brian. We all talked about our time with him and discussed what a freak fucking accident it was. A few days after hearing about Brian, we all found out (from another employee sneaking through her cop friend’s emails and forwarding them to herself then us) that while Brian was walking home from work that night, the ground was still wet from the rain earlier and while walking up someone’s cement wall that lined the cut-through stairs, had fallen, then hit his head on the cement wall causing him to go unconscious and bled out. San, John and I mostly just hung our heads. We all had the same thoughts going through our minds. For me it was, “if I hadn’t taken off” or “if I didn’t ask Brian”. For San and John, who ride to and from work together everyday, they wordered “what would have happened if we didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when we tried to give Brian a ride home. “He would have never been in the alley.” San said. “If someone was with him, he’d be alive.” John sobbed. “There was no possible way to know that he’d slip and hit his head hard enough to bleed out on the less than a block walk home, guys.” I reassured them, hoping it would help them feel less guilty, even in the slightest. But for months, without having to say so, we shared the feeling of what-if we all did one thing different.
4 Comments
Abby Warholic
9/22/2019 04:46:35 pm
Jess, thank you for sharing this story. I’m so sorry for your loss. I felt your sadness and guilt when you talked about thinking about what would’ve happened if you did something different. You seem like a very strong person.
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Sabatino
9/23/2019 07:00:14 pm
I am sorry for your loss. I appreciate your willingness to share this personal moment from your life. This story explores myriad emotions. What would you consider to be the primary emotion that drives this story? Toward the end of the story, I notice literary conflict emerging. Would you say the primary conflict is character v self?
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AYLIN
9/23/2019 07:19:37 pm
I am sorry for your loss. It's hard to know that we'll never see again that person we loved so much. But, we don't have to think about what we could have done for him because we can't go back in time and thinking on that hurts us. That is why is better if we think in that good moment that we shared with that person and keep them in our hearts.
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Doug
9/24/2019 10:57:50 am
Jess, first and foremost I am sorry for your loss. I know the feeling of if you had done something different maybe they would still be here. You did an exceptionally well job conveying that feeling to the reader. I felt your pain and emotional drive through the entire piece.
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