What I am really describing here is a job opportunity for men who are burdened with the loss of eyesight that afflicts me. In this short essay I will try to tell you why this is a golden opportunity for men such as myself.
Guido Bocciola operated a very fashionable restaurant in New York on 55th Street between Madison and Fifth Avenue. The restaurant was called L’Aiglon, which means, I believe, a young eagle. While escargot and caviar and other such delicacies appeared on the menu at L’Aiglon, roast eagle was never among the offerings. But, nonetheless, it was a very fashionable place that served excellent cuisine and had a much bigger luncheon business than it had for dinner.
Early in my essay writing career, I did a series of 12 essays about people I had known in New York City. One of them was Guido Bocciola. Those of you who had anything to do with AT&T may remember “deButts’ Folly”. In that instance when John deButts became Chairman of the Board of the AT&T Company, he foolishly decided that he wanted to move the headquarters from 195 Broadway uptown to the corner of Madison Avenue and 55th Street. The building that deButts proposed was enormous. About halfway between Madison Avenue and Fifth was the location of Guido’s restaurant. Before deButts’s folly could be completed, it would be necessary to destroy Guido’s operation. You may also recall that after a painstaking search, I located the man in charge of the construction and went to see him. He was an AT&T employee from the Midwest, as I am. He was a very pleasant fellow who said that he would welcome Guido if he came to see him. The appointment was set for 9 AM the next morning. In that meeting, Guido and the AT&T man in charge of knocking down buildings came to an agreement that permitted Guido’s restaurant to remain in operation for three more years. On top of that, AT&T agreed to take care of deficiencies in the building that the previous owner had declined to perform. Guido thought that AT&T as a landlord was truly heaven-sent.
In my jobs as Marketing Director and then as Director of Correspondent Relations, it was necessary and appropriate for me to bring guests to lunch. Almost invariably, I would select L’Aiglon as the place to go.
L’Aiglon had paintings on the wall and there were deep carpets on the floor. It was Guido’s custom to welcome each guest and, after the luncheon was completed, to bid that guest goodbye. Guido was impeccably dressed for the sixteen or seventeen hours that being owner of a restaurant requires. He was courteous to a fault.
Guido was a native of Milan, Italy. It was his contention that the Milanese were the most hospitable people in Italy. I found no reason to argue with that point of view.
For example, when my younger daughter was hit by a motorcycle near Toulouse, France, we retrieved her and brought her home. Shortly after our arrival at home, Guido asked us to come in to his place for dinner. Guido oversaw the serving of each meal and he himself prepared us a desert which he called his spécialité.
One of the reasons that I took my foreign guests to Guido’s restaurant was that the employees there had non-traditional backgrounds. Some spoke Spanish, some spoke Portuguese, many spoke French, and there might have been another language or two which do not come to mind at this particular moment. But the point is that my guests could have a discussion in their own native tongues. I enjoyed the repartee and my belief is that in so doing, I learned a lot from my guests and Guido’s waiters.
When luncheon was served at L’Aiglon, it was usually to a full house. There were many men who clearly discussing business with other men. On the other hand, in a discrete corner or two of the restaurant, there were men entertaining females. Because I went to the restaurant there so often, I became aware of the existence of these other gentlemen. I noticed that from time to time their female acquaintances would change. And so it was that in a free-floating discussion with my great and good friend Guido, I asked him about the men who were dining with different female friends from time to time. Guido’s reply was classic. He said simply, “I look but I see nothing.” Obviously if there were a divorce suit, to call Guido to the witness stand would be a futile gesture. Guido would look and still see absolutely nothing.
The thought about Guido has stirred my desire to get back into the business world. Tomorrow I am going to place an ad in the local newspapers offering my services as a maître d’. It will have to be in an upscale restaurant where my scouts can inform me that men are appearing at lunch with different women. As the maître d’, if I were ever called to testify in a divorce suit, I could say with a straight face, “I look but I see nothing.”
My services should be worth $10,000 per week from the restaurant owner and, if there is a divorce suit where I could repeat my mantra about seeing nothing, there might be a payoff of more than $50,000. If my quest for a job as a maître d’ in an upscale restaurant succeeds, AT&T can take its pension and invest it in Enron stock. So, as you can see, I intend to be gainfully employed for a long time, which will keep my name off of the unemployed rolls that the politicians talk so much about these days. I will tell you that it will be a good thing to go back to work in a profession that I believe I will enjoy.
E. E. CARR
January 16, 2008
Essay 286
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Kevin’s commentary: I suppose I’ll have to read that other essay to find out what became of L’Aiglon. Google tells me that there is no longer any such restaurant in New York, which is a shame. I think that Pop’s business idea is a winner, though. It reminds me of a restaurant in China called “Whale’s Belly” or somesuch where the diners all eat in the dark. In that restaurant and others of its ilk, the waiters wear night vision goggles. Pop would have no need for these and indeed could save the restaurant money on such equipment.