Despite being in a new city, the same general malaise I felt during previous Christmases (1992 and 1993) continued. The part which really sucked was the lack of getting to attend the Sidler’s New Year’s bash in Chicago (this became the last one too). No matter how rotten Christmas was, their party was always a high point.
Now I was a thousand miles away and on the bubble with my position at University Towers. Some of it my own doing and the rest the usual politics at the place; the GM wanted me fired yet did nothing about the other people stealing or my favorite, the head of maintenance having an affair with another employee. Then again, the GM had an alcoholic son who was a lawsuit waiting to happen so he needed others’ faults to deflect such a liability.
Right around Christmas Eve Doc told me about my hours being cut (probably the compromise) which just amplified the virtual kick in the nads I received from Apple over not getting the internship gig. Patricia returning to France didn’t help.
Austin was quickly feeling like a bad decision. I left Central Illinois to make a fresh start and now I feared I was digging myself into the same hole I climbed out of 11 months ago. Much of it was caused by unrealistic expectations. Success in a new city wasn’t going to be sudden. It would take months, not weeks or days. Now I wasn’t sure if I had the luxury of time. With my hours being cut, paying the bills was going to be more difficult. Remaining friends with Doc was proving harder too. Sonia became an invaluable counterweight to the ugly situation. She did invite me to join her Houston for the holiday but I had to decline, I was offered the holiday shifts at the dorm and I had better take them while I had the opportunity.
On Christmas Day though, I wasn’t going to let the past or recent events bring me down. I decided to keep my movie tradition while amending it with an additional couple things. After hearing all the commercials for Katz’s on KNNC, I hopped on my bike to have Christmas dinner there. The weather was gorgeous, for late December. I clearly remember it being a sunny day and the temperatures got as high as the upper 50s (F) or low 60s (F). If nothing nothing else, I could be happier over the lack of snow and chill while biking 32 blocks to downtown Austin. To kill time while waiting to be seated, I packed my backpack (or its French name I liked to use, mon sac a dos) with pens, stamps and paper to write letters to friends. The correspondence habit evolved into a trend I carried on for a few years. I consider it a precursor to this site. As I ate my meal, I kept thinking about Patricia would’ve enjoyed Katz’s.
After eating, I got back on my bike and rode like hell to the Lincoln 6 (long closed) to see a movie. This was a more grueling 60-plus blocks North from Katz’s, much of it on a slight incline uphill. The lack of traffic on Christmas Day worked in my favor going along Lamar and Airport Boulevard. Hollywood didn’t roll out much to choose from that day either. I should’ve stayed at my apartment to watch the free cable it came with. Then again, had I known how close the Highland 10 was from the Lincoln 6, I may have had a better choice. Anyway, I was feeling optimistic so I went to IQ, a rather formulaic romantic comedy starring Tim Robbins, Walter Matthau (as Albert Einstein) and the queen of the genre, Meg Ryan. I still arrived early for the first show and spent over 90 minutes in the lobby writing a letter to Cindy. The other strong memory was hearing Sarah McLachlan’s cover of Gordon Lightfoot’s “Song for a Winter’s Night.”
The ride back was easy, having the incline in my favor. I made it back to my apartment well before sundown. Patricia left me a message on my machine wishing me a Merry Christmas. That brought a huge smile to my face. Mom called too. She wanted to make sure I was alright. I think she was aware of all the blows to my morale I had been through. I’m glad she didn’t make another pitch for me to move to Raleigh-Durham.
Sonia came back a couple days later. She had been invited to her boss’s New Year’s Eve party so I got to tag along. Helen frequently reminds me about the streaking incident I missed on a cold Chicago morning in 1995. I think the hostess’s husband sent the Chicago perpetrators a telepathic suggestion since we had a similar incident by midnight, except it was over 70 degrees (F) that evening. Our party also included someone firing a handgun in the air for an unexplainable reason.
It seemed like a bittersweet ending to the Break. I just hit the snooze button on my problems for a while which is what the holidays are really all about. Austin’s superior weather let me take stock on how much better life was too. Maybe this is why my life in Austin gradually came around in 1995. By late April, I was grateful I toughed it out instead of getting offers from Chicago.