The Breadman Cometh…

As promised the Story of the Breadman…

It would start with a little flurry and a rush of excitement throughout the restaurant. Well, at least coming from the waitresses, hostesses and female bartenders because we all knew around what time the Breadman would get there.

I don’t think there was anyone in that restaurant that didn’t know when the Breadman was making a delivery. I’m pretty sure even the guys came out to get a glimpse of the Breadman.

Although they wouldn’t admit it. They would just give him that “knowing” head nod and say “What’s up man?”

But they were there to look too. Because, well let’s just say that the Breadman was a Wonder to see!!

This guy was beyond swoon worthy.

When he would walk in, he would have all of the girls blushing (and a few guys too).

Except for me, I would put on an air of being “unblushable”.

I wouldn’t rush to the kitchen to get a glimpse of his “hotness”.

I would wait until he would come out to the bar and ask me for a drink of some kind and then of course I would hand him his drink trying not to look up or catch his eye.

Being a little standoffish.

Because inside, I was swooning. I was blushing and giggling like a little school girl.

And trust me, anyone would swoon. It was impossible not to swoon.

And if I caught his eye, I knew I would blush.

So, as soon as he would walk away I would take a sip of water, put my hand on the bar like it was holding me up and make some kind of comment like:

“That is one mountain I would love to climb.”

And then I would blush!

But all of it out of the Breadman’s sight.

In front of him I was cool, calm and collected.

As soon as he walked away…weak in the knees.

He was hot!

I mean HOT!!

And he was a mountain.

A mountain I was dying to climb.

A giant mountain of hotness.

He looked like a Greek God.

He looked like the Greek God Atlas.

With all those bulging muscles holding up the world.

He had these large, brown puppy dog eyes and this beautiful thick dark hair that flipped perfectly over to one side.

And a Greek God really was exactly what the Breadman was…a myth.

He was a myth of epic proportions.

So, you took your moment, imagined, swooned, fantasized and then went on with your day.

Really, unless he was there making all the girls blush you really didn’t think about him again.

It wasn’t like I actually really thought that I could be with the Breadman.

He was a myth. An untouchable but oh so fun to fantasize about myth.

And anyway at this time I was still seeing Stockbroker boy. And I was all wrapped up in my city and in acting school.

Stockbroker boy if you remember was the 1st guy I dated after my sailor. And the boy that had me crying on my way home after the first time we were together.

It was with him that I think I learned the difference between sex and making love. If I had sex I wouldn't get hurt. And Stockbroker boy made it perfectly clear that we were “just dating” and we were not exclusive. That was something foreign to me at the time too. I had to learn it.

But don’t get me wrong, Stockbroker boy wasn’t mean, or “a player”. He was who he was and we had some “fun” times. Some actually really fun times. Times I might not have been able to open myself up to if it wasn’t for him being who he was.

And at this time, I still longed for my sailor so I guess we helped each other out.

But one thing was for certain, I was not entertaining any ideas of being with the Breadman. As far as I knew, he didn’t even know I existed until…

Until one very embarrassing day at the restaurant that in turn led to a date…

Now as I said we all knew when the Breadman made his deliveries. We all waited, watched and enjoyed.

So I was a little shocked when I walked into the kitchen one morning and he was standing there with the manager.

It was not delivery time.

I walked in the back to ask the manager a question and I’m pretty sure once I saw the Breadman my question came out like: “Hey, I was wntihe if hetgye hei seya?”

Ughhh!

And then the manager turns around…

IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE KITCHEN (I might add)…

And says: “Michaela have you met [Insert Breadman’s real name here]. I thought you two might get along.”

And right on cue the whole kitchen (meaning all the cooks!!) start with the “ohhhs” and the “ooooohs’ and the “ahhhhs” and the “whooooos”.

BLUSH does not even begin to describe it.

Mortified.

And I went red faced back to my bar.

I am pretty sure that I told my manager and the kitchen staff that I was never speaking to any of them again.

But after a couple of days I was over it.

And vowed to not be around when the wonder of the Breadman made his next delivery.

And I wasn’t. And I went on with life as usually.

The following weekend had the distinct honor of being Super Bowl Sunday.

Now believe it or not Super Bowl Sunday is not a busy bar day. Most people have Super Bowl parties.

This was Super Bowl XXX.

And for those who need to a little background.

It was 1996 and the Pittsburgh Steelers were playing the Dallas Cowboys in Super Bowl XXX.

And for anyone who doesn’t know my crazy, football girl side. I am a HUGE Pittsburgh Steelers fan.

Yes, a big enough fan to have some Pittsburgh Steelers home decoration.

A big enough fan to dress in the appropriate Pittsburgh Steeler attire and a big enough fan to yell at the TV when they are winning or losing.

Big fan and I have been since the days of Mean Joe Green and Terry Bradshaw.

And my Steelers were playing their arch rivals the Dallas Cowboys in the Super Bowl XXX.

And I was bartending that day.

It didn’t really bother me to be bartending that day b/c I knew it would be slow and I would get to watch the game.

And slow it was.

I had no one at the bar and then my manager peeks his head into the bar and says: “You have a phone call.”

“Really? Who?” –

No one calls me at work. Ever.

“Don’t know.”

“Hello…..”

And it was the Breadman!

I’m pretty sure I asked him several times to repeat who is was. I think I was actually confused at first.

But then he asked me if I would mind if he came in and watched the game with me.

Getting my bearings back I distinctly remember saying: “Are you a Cowboy fan?”

Now some of you might not understand the importance of that question but trust me a devoted Steeler Fan knows how important it is that any perspective date answers that question with a definite “NO!”…

And he did!

The Breadman said “No!”

He was not a Cowboy fan!

Whew!

So I said “Yes. Come watch the game with me!”

I hung up the phone and screamed!

The cooks were like “There she goes…”

I am a vocal football watcher!

“I guess Pittsburgh is winning!”

No Pittsburgh was not winning but it certainly felt like I was.

Sadly my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers did not win the Super Bowl that year. They lost due to turn overs.

Football is a funny game. One minute you could be winning, you have the momentum and the next…boom…you turn the game over…

It is what makes the game exciting. It is what makes people get up out of their chairs and scream at the TV.

And it is what also makes a loss that more devastating.

Because one minute you’re winning…