On February 14th we went to an Oscar Wilde play in Vancouver, “The Importance of Being Earnest,” it was. The weather was chilly, to put it mildly, and we’d dressed the part, in big overcoats, gloves, and scarfs. He wore black Doc Martens (was there any other colour?) which was a good sounding shoe—by that I mean, when you walked, the shoe against the ground had a pleasant sound, very comforting. My shoes sounded rather tinny, but I could never bring myself to purchase the big clunky Doc Martens as I preferred more sleek-looking shoes. There’s always a trade off. When we arrived at the theatre, romantically lit, it had a wonderfully welcoming ambience in the otherwise cold and dark night. We were ushered in by a slender man with shimmering blue eyes that suggested he was happier than usual, perhaps he found out his wife was pregnant. He tore our tickets in half and off we went to the bar for a cocktail.

“Enjoy the show,” I heard him say behind us.

Oh! The bar. This was even better than the main event. I longed for the intermission when I’d rush back out and hobnob with the other socialites. Any concert without a well-stocked bar is not a concert worth going to. How else can you sit through a stuffy, sleep-inducing event? You need to be on beta-blockers and thyroid medication or drunk. That’s the only way. All the seniors there took a fresh dose of meds before they put on their top hats I assure you—many go there just to snooze! And don’t get me started on the coughing. That’s a psychological phenomenon that is akin to dogs hearing a bell and drooling. I’ve never coughed so much in my life as when the movement finishes and everyone erupts with dry or chesty coughs, you’d think the theatre was on fire. I’d love to be a performer and tease the audience by pretending to stop just long enough to have them prepare to cough, only to cut them off again. Why do they all suddenly need to cough? Is the air in the theatre really that bad? Is it like that in every crowded area? Are people coughing all the time in sports arenas, but because they can cough whenever they want it goes unnoticed? If, on the big screen, they scheduled a coughing break, would everyone cough? I expect they would. And I expect they’ll do it during the play this evening, too.

We clinked glasses and drank. I downed the whole of it in one swig.

“Another Cava for me!” I boomed.

After the third glass was emptied, I had a wild idea.

“Why don’t we do the coat check? I’ve never done that before, and tonight seems as good a night as any, what with all the heavy clothing.”

“As always, your wildness knows no bounds,” he said.

I ignored the jab at my humdrum life and proceeded with a skip in my step.

The coat check staff was a slender little girl, who bore a passing resemblance to Mila Kunis, but she sounded just like Mae West.

“Don’t forget your wallet, honey,” she said, “or you’ll be buying me a drink.”

I wanted to say something witty in return, but I couldn’t think of anything. I grew hot under the collar and started to sweat. I had to say something, but I didn’t even laugh, I just grunted like an imbecile. I stood there like a statue with a stupid look on my face. Say something, you idiot!

I pulled out a tenner from my wallet and slipped it inside my coat pocket and handed the coat to her.

“I wouldn’t want you to get thirsty now,” I said. Holy smokes! My adrenaline spiked and I had to concentrate all my efforts to walk away easy and cool like; it was all I could do not to jump and skip like a prancing fool.

After checking the coats, we went back over for one more drink before the five-minute bell went off and everyone shuffled to their seats for the play.

Through the entire first half before the intermission, I couldn’t help but wonder what the coat check girl was up to. Was she waiting for me? Should I go see her? What would I say? I’d effectively already invested towards a drink for her, now I just needed to withdraw my savings and buy it for her. Yes! But what if she wasn’t there? Maybe she was watching the play too? No, she had to watch the coats, that was her job. I realised I had no idea what the staff did while the play was on. Maybe they set up the empty liquor bottles into a triangle and hurled lemons and limes at them. Maybe they played dress up with all the clothing. Or rented it out for an hour to ladies of the night to class up their gig. Or maybe they just sat there reading a book or playing on their phones.

“Gotta take a leak,” I whispered to my friend, and proceeded to sneak out. But a thought occurred that maybe someone had beaten me to her; some no good hyena was probably already there tormenting the poor girl. And without really knowing what I was doing, I had leapt over three old farts in their seats and hightailed it for Mae West. When I reached the coat check counter, I was panting.

“Well, look who’s returned, blue eyes.” She was reading a book. Ha! I was right. I turned red. “Thank goodness you’re still here. I thought you might be out watching the play too.”

“Goodness had nothing to do with it.”

I felt like I’d been kicked in the head with a Doc Marten.

“Well, how about we get you a drink?” I said.

“Well aren’t you something? You wouldn’t be trying to get me into trouble would you?”

“I can’t imagine you’ve ever been out of it.”

Her eyes focused on me with a sudden intensity, as if she were studying me. Then she propped her butt up onto the counter, swung her legs up and over and stopped dead in front of me. Her eyes were fierce, looking deep into mine. She scooched an inch closer. The blood pumped through me. I felt tingly everywhere.

“Brandy Alexander, blue eyes. I won’t move an inch.”

I hopped backwards a few steps as it took that long for my body to catch up with my head. I was excited beyond my physical fitness ability, and my body ached all over from my muscles being jerked around by my darting in and out through the people. Christ! The people! Where’d they come from? The lineup for the bar was already full of old farts and perfumed ladies waiting noisily for their white wine spritzer. I couldn’t make her wait. What could I do? I went up to the front guy and asked if he could order me two drinks, as I was in a hurry.

“In a hurry for what?” he asked, more confused than cheeky, I thought.

“For...well...to impress this girl I’m with.”

He must have been about sixty, with a large forehead and bushy eyebrows. He was barrel- chested and well-tanned, and he seemed nonjudgmental, which is why I had blurted out the truth to him rather than make up a stupid lie. And he seemed to appreciate my helpless attempt to please a girl, as if he’d been there many times before.

“What’ll it be, then?”

I pulled out a twenty and handed it to him.

“Scotch on the rocks and...”

Oh fuck! What did she want? I racked my brain. What did she say to me? She said blah blah blah. Visualise the scene. She hopped up on the table. Swung her hair around in slow motion. Then she blew me a kiss and gestured for me to go to her. She pulled me in and we smooched. Christ! No, she didn’t do that! What did she say?

“That it? Just the scotch?” The man said.

“No, I forget. Jesus. She wanted something, um, long name. Many syllables.”

“Long Island Iced Tea?”

“No! Not that. Something like a Belgian Alabama or a Bellini Alabama?”

“Never heard of it, kid.”

“Brandy? Brandy! Brandy Alabama.”

“Brandy Alexander?”

“That’s it!”

“Take a breather, kid. You’re liable to give me a heart attack.”

I thanked the large man and took off to the coat check. And by took off, I mean gingerly, with the utmost concentration so as not to spill, while my mind was frantic and raced, walked to—what’s her name? Mae West, I guessed.

She was sitting in the exact same spot as I left her, but there were two other guys around her. Scoundrels! Luckily she saw me approach and told the others to step aside. Once I arrived they immediately backed off, guessing she was mine since I had the drinks, and I had her to myself again.

“I was starting to worry you’d forgotten me. And that’s the worst kind of forgetting.” She pulled the drink to her lips as if she were about to touch fire. She sipped it, licked her lips, and, looking right at me, said, “You’re just what I needed.”

The five-minute bell sounded again for the start of the second half, but I didn’t care, and she could see I wasn’t going to move.

“Well, then, what now?” she asked.

I didn’t know. Of course I’d fantasized about taking her on a pile of coats behind the counter, but I couldn’t really do that? Could I? Did things like that happen? Had she done that before? Was I just another free-drink and roll in the old coats for her? How could I even go about starting that. I needed to try and kiss her first.

“I can think of two things we can do.”

“You can think of one,” she quipped back.

“Twice,” I said as I pulled the glass from her and set it down on the counter. Then I moved in close and put my lips an inch away from hers. She pushed in and off we went. Hallelujah! She pulled me over the counter. Our clothes went flying off and the coats came tumbling down. We threw ourselves into the mess: the furs, the leather, the pleather, the polyester. I rolled her up in a luscious stole, she put on leather gloves and rubbed me all over. She mounted me like a cowgirl and I wrapped a scarf with tassels around her waist as she gyrated about. She warmed her hands in a cashmere muff, I warmed my head in another. And as good as my word, twice indeed it was! We lay there covered in the myriad of fabrics behind the counter, the faint coughing from the audience watching the play in the distance. Nothing was on my mind. There were no thoughts, per se, or if there were I didn’t notice them; there were just images floating through my mind, of what I don’t remember. I’d never experienced that sensation before. It was as if I’d become detached from my conscience, or whatever it was that kept my brain active, kept me worrying about saving money, about doctor’s appointments, about brushing my teeth. I was just a participant in my mind, watching thoughts and sensations enter and exit with no attachment, just pure wonder and exultation. The coat check girl broke the serenity by sitting up and putting her clothes back on. Her back was long and sensual, and she held herself upright and with confidence. I didn’t feel like moving one bit. I couldn’t care less about the play or about when it finished and the people came rushing out to collect their sullied coats. She turned to me.

“Well cowboy, that was quite a ride. I’m gonna go make myself look presentable. Why don’t you start cleaning up? If anyone asks, just say you’re the new guy covering my shift.”

She collected her things in a large bag and went to the restroom. I lay there for another few minutes by myself in awe at what had just happened. I then picked myself up and began arranging things. The coats all had identification tags on them, but the gloves and scarves didn’t, and I didn’t notice any tags ripped off on the ground, so I had to make a few guesses as to which gloves and scarves belonged with which coats. I tried to clean them up a bit too, for in the rolling and tumbling they had gotten a tad dirty. I was thankful we hadn’t wrestled in my coat and scarf. Then I wondered why I was doing this anyway, it wasn't my job. I looked at the last remaining coat and shrugged. Small price to pay for the romp of the century. I picked it up and was about to hang it on the rack when my attention was caught by a man calling to me.

“You there, who are you?”

“Oh, I’m just filling in for...” Fuck! What’s her name! “I'm taking over her shift. I’m the new guy.”

“You’re Mike?” he asked.

“That’s me,” I lied.

“I thought you were starting next week,” he said.

“Oh, right. I am. I am. But I was here watching the play tonight and thought I’d come and meet...everyone.”

“Where’s Jessica?”

She didn’t look like a Jessica to me but I had to assume that was her name.

“She just went to the restroom.”

We both looked towards the restroom when I said it but I was looking left and he right. I quickly turned to the right and felt a shock run through me. He looked back towards me, and I felt him staring at me, inspecting me.

“I think she was having lady problems,” I said, making a sympathetic/unfortunate face. That seemed to distract him for a bit, then I said, “so I was just making myself useful. You know, trying to make a good first impression. I’m just tidying up here, need anything, sir?”

“Oh, no thanks, Mike. Let her know I was looking for her.”

“Will do,” I said.

After he’d left, I looked back towards the restroom to the right and then where I had been looking first to the left, where I noticed the exit sign. I swear she went to the left. I started to panic. Why would she leave? That couldn’t be! I was about to leave but realized my things were still there. The auditorium doors burst open and the crowd exited. Before I could jump over the counter and skedaddle, they were lined up with their coat tickets waiting for me. I started taking tickets and returning coats. It took me a few seconds to find them but I was functioning high on adrenaline and my eyes darted about and found the tags quickly.

“Young man, these are not my gloves,” an old lady said.

“I’m terribly sorry. What colour gloves did you have?”

“I didn’t,” she said abruptly and took her coat and left. I put the gloves to one side.

“Dear, this is not my scarf, mine is blue,” another said.

I located a blue scarf. “Is this it, ma’am?”

“No, no. Mine’s blue with fur tassels.”

Tassels! I was sweating buckets by this point. I handed her the tasseled scarf while trying to avoid eye contact with it.

I took the next ticket and returned a fur coat.

“Dear, I’m missing my hand warmer.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. What does it look like?”

“It’s cashmere. Cream coloured.”

“I’ve no doubt,” I blurted out. Oh Christ. I felt my heart palpitate through my entire body, like someone was banging a taiko drum inside me. I handed her the muff.

“Thank you, dear.” She placed her hands inside and left. I nearly threw up.

I noticed that there were a few hangers with tags on them but no garments. But I hadn’t but a moment to consider why before some guy was complaining that he was missing this or that. It took me a second to realize it was the big gentleman who’d helped me buy the drinks.

“You work here?” he asked suspiciously.

I stammered and stuttered. My vision started to go blurry. He talked some more but I could only catch the words, the sentences didn’t make sense. I distinctly heard “wallet” though, and for some reason that word blew up in my mind.

“You left your wallet? In your coat? How’d you buy the drinks?” I was genuinely confused and oblivious to its whereabouts.

“Well, it’s a big wallet, so I just took out the money.”

“It just must have fallen out when I was taking it off the hanger. Let me go back and check.” I searched through the garments and with stupendous luck found a large wallet for a large man on the floor.

I rushed back and handed it to him. As he tucked it inside his coat pocket I saw a flash of something shiny, like a badge. And I nearly fainted.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked.

“Spencer,” I said without thinking.

“How long you worked here?”

“Just a short while,” I mumbled. I couldn’t keep my eyes focused and I felt at any moment I was going to collapse.

The boss whom I’d met before came back calling my name, or what he thought was my name, and I didn’t catch on until the third time. The large man in front of me crossed his arms and gave a peculiar smile.

“Mike!” the boss said. “Have you seen Jessica?”

“Who?” I asked. “Oh right, um. No. I don’t know where she went.”

“You know him?” the large man asked the boss.”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“He works for you?”

“How can I help you, sir?” the boss asked, defensively.

The large man flashed his badge. “I’d like you to tell me who this young man is.”

“This is Mike, he’s new here.”

“Mike what?”

The boss turned to me with a dumb realization on his face.

“You hired him?” the officer asked.

“Not me personally.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was sweating buckets and dangerously close to having an aneurysm or stroke or heart attack or something. I came clean and told them what had happened.

“So, where’s Mike?”

It was a question I didn’t expect and just pulled a stupid face.

The people were still waiting in line for their things. The boss slid behind the counter and started returning items. I saw my friend in the lineup with a flabbergasted look on his face. The officer turned his attention back to me.

“Did you do it on my coat?” he whispered.

My eyes bugged out for a moment as I frantically hoped we hadn’t. Luckily, I’m fairly certain I don’t think we had, so I shook my head with a heavy sigh of relief. He too seemed relieved.

“Well, kid. That’ll be it for now. Even though you didn’t watch the play it seems you know the importance of being earnest.”

I gave a faint laugh but I probably would have enjoyed the reference more had I understood it. The officer left me to talk to the boss and get more details about Mae West.

My friend came up to me and the confusion on his face was completely understandable.

“What...is going on?”

“Let’s get out of here. Got your things?” I asked.

“Yeah, but my coat is a bit dirty. They must have dropped it.” He went to put it on but I took it from him.

“Oh, you don’t want to put it on then. Let’s take it to the cleaners. It’s on me.”

The look on his face was confused.

“Because I suggested the coat check. My bad. Here, I’ll carry it for you. It’s not that cold out anyway.” It was below zero.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded.

“I’ll explain later. You’ll never believe it anyway.”