So this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down, and I’d like to take a minute, you can just sit right there, and I’ll tell you all about the night I met the Dread Lord Zober and Hizzoner Master Lukey.
Or you can bloop-bloop-bloop because this post is going to be a bit long.
When my husband mentioned he wanted to hold a grand opening party the evening before he actually opened the restaurant to the public, he and I sat down one evening and wrote out a list of people we wanted to invite to the free food and drink shindig complete with a mariachi band of real actual Mexicans originally from Mexico.
Him: “Should we invite the Mayor?”
Me: “[sigh] [moan] [bitch] [whine] It would probably be the proper thing to do.”
Him: “Okay, how about the Dread Lord?”
Me: “God, NO! He’ll destroy me!”
The next day, a call from my Mother:
Her: “Did you make your invite list?”
Her: “Are you inviting the Dread Lord and the Mayor? You really should. It would be the proper thing to do, you know.”
Me: “[bitch] [moan] [whine] Fine. I’ll invite them! But they won’t come. And if they do come, they’ll come for the sole purpose of destroying me.”
Fast forward to the following week when I get an email from the Mayor’s office informing me that The Dread Lord Zober is pleased to accept my invitation to the grand opening fiesta.
Fast forward to the night of the grand opening. It’s a beautiful early evening in Pittsburgh and the restaurant is filling with our family and our friends and the mariachi band is warming up. I decided to park my butt at the main doorway and stand on the sidewalk in Market Square to greet the guests. After about 20 minutes of this, I was standing out in the fading sunshine in a quite deserted square when I heard soft voices. Approaching footsteps. Suddenly fearful that the pigeons had been informed I was alone, I glanced to my right to find myself being approached not by a flock of ninja pigeons, but instead by the Seven Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
There, walking toward me was The Dread Lord Zober and to his left was none other than Mayor Luke Ravenstahl.
And they have a posse.
No lie. Four or five business-suited city employees are following close behind Yarone and Lukey and they’re all walking toward me in SUPER SLOW MOTION and they’re … I can’t even type this … THEY’RE SMILING.
I realized that if Lukey and The Dread Lord are walking toward me with smiles on their faces, it can only mean two things … I’m holding a pile of cash they plan to steal or they’re here to kill me. I was holding no cash, so murder seemed the more likely scenario. With that realization, I said loud enough for them to hear, “Oh, God, no.”
[I’d like to interject that I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. I really said that. They really heard me say that. And I really did this next thing I’m about to write.]
When Luke Ravenstahl, still walking toward me in slow motion and still running film in his head of what my dead body would look like, started rubbing his hands together in that mwah-hahah! fashion, I again said, “Oh, HELL, no!” and I turned on my heel to go back into the restaurant. I slammed the door shut, and I peered out the window and I waited.
And then they were there. Smiling at me. And I no longer had a choice. I had dug my grave and it was time to fling myself into it.
After meeting the posse, I turned on the Dread Lord all, “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE BRINGING THE FRICKIN’ MAYOR!”
Yeah, the Mayor is standing right there listening to me, but whatever.
After chatting for a few minutes, I walked the men up the stairs to the restaurant, where again, friends and family were gathered … and a hush fell over the crowd.
Poor Ginny. Looks like she’s dying today. RIP, sister. RIP.
But here’s the thing. The Dread Lord Zober? Extremely, extremely engaging. I mean, yeah, I’m sure in the back of his head he was cursing me with every name he could think of in every language he knows, but to my face, so easy to talk to and so kind.
The same can be said for Lukey. Very kind toward me. He thanked me and my husband for investing in downtown Pittsburgh.
After about five minutes, as the men were seated and digging into their salsa and chips and beverages, I thanked Lukey and The Dread Lord for being such good sports with my blog and the criticism I have thrown their way.
Then I said this, “While I appreciate that good humor and I can’t even tell you how thrilled I am that you came here tonight, I won’t stop doing what I’m doing.”
And that’s when the Dread Lord slammed his fist angrily on the table, sending tortilla chips scattering, and screamed “DESTROY HER!” and had one of his minions run me through with a trident.
They said, “We know. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
I have no idea what Lukey and The Dread Lord really think of me, but yeah, I’ve heard the rumors. I know they’re politicians and I remain wary of them, but that doesn’t erase the fact that they came, they stayed for almost an hour, and they were gracious.
Regardless of what true feelings or ulterior motives it may have veiled, for the moment, it was human kindness and I appreciated it and wanted to share it with you. Here are a few photos taken by my former butler Mike Woycheck:
That said, Lukey left the restaurant to head to Off The Record and well, we all know what I had to say about that.
Hey, I’m just doing what they told me to do, which is keep doing what I was doing.
There are so many more stories to share from that evening, stories about Franco Harris teaching children to sing Guantanamera …
… and stories about my sisters freaking the hell out when Sally Wiggin walked in.
For now, know that I have come face to face with Lukey and The Dread Lord Zober and as far as I can tell, I have escaped unscathed.
But if I disappear at any point in the near future … avenge me.