When I first met Joe I was hoping to quit my job at the boutique. I was a little late for my interview, the train had delayed me. A waitress went to go find him in the back, and I sat at the bar in my short summer dress, drinking a water, and feeling very out of place.
“Are you interviewing for a job?” An older woman said from across the bar.
“Yes, yes I am.” I responded nervously while toying with my straw, stirring my ice.
“Oh, you’ll be a shoe-in.”
“Thank you.”
The woman, who turned out to be Joe’s mom, visiting from Wisconsin, turned to a younger woman next to her, Joe’s sister. “Don’t you think she looks just like your cousin?”
“I thought that the second she walked in!” His sister then addressed me, “Don’t worry honey, you’ll get the job.”
That’s when Joe walked out, wearing old faded jeans and a Notre Dame football jersey, chewing on a straw. His mom pulled on his arm as he walked by, “She looks just like your cousin, you should hire her.”
He smiled and sat down on the barstool next to me. “You must be Laura.”
The first thing I noticed about Joe were his eyes, they were brown and full of life, trustworthy. We shook hands.
“What’s your favorite beer?” He asked, twisting the cocktail straw around in his mouth, he leaned nonchalantly across the bar, his elbows almost reaching to the well.
“ha, I feel like I should say Guinness.” (It was an Irish pub) “but there’s a brewery in Michigan called Bell’s, and their Two Hearted Ale has my heart. Guinness is in my top five though.”
“I know Bell’s. I’m from Wisconsin.”
“Awesome, I moved here from Indiana.”
“Good, a fellow midwesterner. Nicole over there’s from Michigan.” He nodded towards the bartender. “Can you open a bottle of wine?”
>>>
Those were the only two questions he asked me. My first day was two days later, a Tuesday morning.
Working at the pub gave me the overwhelming sense of community that I had longed for ever since leaving Muncie. The people there got me back on my feet, brought me back to myself. Joe was as much of a part of this as anyone. He set a pretty good example of how we should behave. I’m not going to pretend he was perfect. There were most definitely moments where he made me want to pull my hair out, and he put cheddar cheese on his french toast, which will always be weird to me. But he was the kind of guy who was always mindful of other people’s needs, patron or employee, friend or stranger. Rarely was there a dog on our patio without a treat in its mouth, or a bowl of water between its paws. He built every patio bench we had, which were as wobbly as they were charming. He always attempted the Saturday crossword, but rarely did he finish it. And on Friday nights, when his favorites were all working together, he would bring us stickers, glow sticks, and crafts to play with throughout the shift, just to make things more interesting, and to make the night go by faster.
>>>
It really was just a blessing to know him. He made such a positive contribution to so many of our lives, and was such an integral part of the community, that there’s no way he’ll be forgotten. Endless patio-bench bruises will remind the waiters and waitresses every time they forget to empty an ash-tray, or pick up an empty pint. The patrons will mistake him for any tall figure in faded jeans and a football jersey. And there will be many moments, in between the hustle and bustle of the crowded and aged pub walls, where we will take a step back and think about the man who helped bring it all together.
-Laura
Filed under: Life in General, Uncategorized , football jerseys, greenbay packers, guinness, joe, meehan's vinings, notre dame football, patio benches, pub
Laura Straub
