Once you enter into a relationship with The Maestro, you will find it difficult to excuse yourself. The Maestro does not conduct music, nor does he conduct trains.
Will you have sex with The Maestro? Yes, and often. You will enjoy it more than we’ll initially admit. Will you dream about him? You may, but you will also find separating dream from not-dream less important with each passing week. He will dream about you. This is important.
Your time with him will be brief in the grand scheme, brief enough that you will leave him off your standard list of exes, but late one night you’ll sit in bed with your wife or husband talking about something else entirely, and all at once The Maestro will come flooding back to you in vivid lurid concrete detail. Will you tell your lover why you’ve suddenly lost your breath?
Is The Maestro the general manager of Chili’s Balcones branch? Yes. Will he bring home Southwest Eggrolls? Yes.
This isn’t meant to scare you any more than it’s meant to comfort you. Love happens. If it is scary and uncomfortable chances are it’s love, and if it also includes power tools and chipotle mayonnaise it very well could be love with The Maestro.
If you think that I am The Maestro, you are “wrong.”
If you think that The Maestro likes costumes, you are right. All kinds. To facilitate the process we’ve discussed – conduction, dreaming, power tools – you may want to wear at least one costume per week. Can it be a Civil War uniform? Yes, and it’s not even necessary that it is period accurate. However, do not think that by avoiding costume you will also avoid The Maestro.
The Maestro likes texting. A lot. Always return his texts within two minutes of receiving them. And don’t do that thing where you respond immediately to the first few, then get all weird and take like a half hour to answer when he asks who you’re with.
Now let’s describe a typical second date with The Maestro. His companions rarely, rarely remember the first date, so describing that one would only aggravate the pinch of déjà vu you’ll feel every time you smell celery or visit Home Depot.
You: seated in the best booth at Chili’s Balcones branch, tugging nervously at the outfit The Maestro has selected for you, wondering how much of the previous night actually happened and how much was part of the elaborate, feverish vision created in the instant you both achieved ecstasy.
Him: watching from afar. Don’t worry, he will be in plain sight. If you wave to him, he will wave back. If you smile at him – try not to smile at The Maestro.
The first course will arrive. You’ll find that the sweat from your palms has always been the missing ingredient in a truly “awesome” Blossom, and your trust in The Maestro will deepen. This is not a coincidence. Baked Potato Soup and Taco Pizza will follow, and though you’ll have your choice between the Mango Iced Tea and Sparkling Berry Limeade, this choice will not be without consequences. Butt consequences.
You’ll pay the bill and leave quietly.
After The Maestro adjusts the amount that you tipped, he will meet you outside. It’s brisk tonight, would you like to borrow his sweater? Of course you would. The sweater is a bit too small, but the tightness around your shoulders feels nice, as if The Maestro is embracing you during the whole walk to his apartment. He’ll really be following twenty feet behind you, clicking his tongue at each turn so you’ll know the way. Two clicks for left, one for right.
The Maestro owns every episode of “Seinfeld” on DVD. Have you ever noticed how Jerry and Elaine have very similar hairstyles, two sides of the same coin? You will. You will choose two episodes to watch that evening – keeping in mind the consequences – and The Maestro will choose a third. This will be Episode 113. The episode features a character also called “The Maestro.” You’ll ask if there is a connection. Perhaps the man sitting next to you is a big fan? It would certainly seem that way. Abruptly, the Maestro will turn toward you. Then he will stare at you. No. Into you. He will tilt his head, as far as his condition will allow. He will lean in, lips brushing your earlobe. He will whisper.
Alone in the bathroom, after you’ve cleaned yourself up, you will catch your reflection in the mirror. You’ll think about the choices you’ve made. What are your life’s biggest regrets?
Did you choose a nickname for yourself, only to realize too late that actor Mark Metcalf played a character with the very same nickname on a sitcom classified by Entertainment Weekly as the 3rd best TV series of all time? No. You didn’t, did you?
When you stumble back to your car the next morning, you’ll find yourself following the route to the Chili’s parking lot exactly, as if by instinct. You’ll think, “Huh, that clicking thing was actually pretty clever.”
How many other dates will you have with The Maestro? That depends on your tolerances for both pleasure and pain. If you haven’t guessed, The Maestro is very interested in the line between those two sensations. He is also very interested in being promoted to regional supervisor and a move to the Riverside location. So you’ll need to tolerate him working long hours, too.
Will you stay friends with The Maestro, after? No. But not because you won’t want to. Mostly, this will be because of your intense biological reaction to his musk.
The Maestro is ready to meet you now. He’s waiting in the old dry creek bed just off the interstate, Exit 11A, and you will recognize his signature wand, plus the green and red general manager’s tee. What you’re wearing is fine. You won’t be wearing it for long.
