I have no proof that the above story happened, but I have had my own “Gary” experience back in the early 2000s, back when I lived in Toronto.
And yes, I’ll name the person and place: Joe Sacco, then-owner/manager of the pub Smokeless Joe on John Street.
Early August, 2002: I was sitting at the bar at Smokeless Joe, waiting to meet someone for a second date. She appeared to be running late. Fifteen minutes stretched into thirty, which stretched in forty-five. Finally, just shy of an hour after it was supposed to begin, I got a phone call. Not on my cell phone, but on the bar’s landline.
Remember, this was 2002, five years before the iPhone was even announced. Texting wasn’t easy then, and even mobile phones were still a little unusual.
Think about how I’d have to pass the time back then, before the era of the smartphone. I probably chatted with the barkeep, read the menu a couple of times, and perused the local free alt-weekly papers, Eye and Now. Smokeless Joe didn’t have a TV, which is highly unusual for a bar, even back then.
The barkeep passed me the phone, and my date told me it wasn’t going to work out.
Joe must’ve been observing, because shortly after I dejectedly returned the handset, he walked over to the barkeep and whispered something in his ear. Only a moment passed before the barkeep placed a pint of stout before me, saying “Sorry she’s not coming. Joe told me to give you a couple of these, on the house.”
I cryptically wrote about it here on August 21, 2002, which was twenty-four years ago. Just thinking about what happened that day, even though almost a quarter century has passed, brings back a flood of memories, and more importantly, the feelings that went along with them. But what I’ll remember most is that act of kindness to this day. Thank you so very much, Joe!
As I wrote at the start of this post, I have no proof that the “Gary” in the review pictured above exists or that the event took place. But I know for certain that things like this have happened and can still happen.
If the opportunity ever presents itself, be someone’s “Gary”.