I took a job as a waitress many times in my life, it was not hard to find a job in the mid 70’s.  Not all waitress jobs were memorable, but the time I spent at the King’s X was special. 

The King’s X was fairly notorious as bars go in the bay area.  It was in Piedmont, a little area in Oakland inhabited by a clientele who had a better income than the average Joe.  Customers included stockbrokers who commuted to San Francisco, the son of the owner of the Oakland Tribune, and various and sundry other successful people.

I was first taken there for lunch one afternoon by a man I purchased an old, used car from.  He owned a garage specializing in fixing up old cars.  He offered to help find me a car that would be within my price range... inexpensive, and I accepted his offer graciously.  He did find me one, an old convertible.  It was not pretty, but it ran and the radio worked and was a whole $90.00.  We went to lunch to celebrate my purchase.

John was Greek, as were the owners of the restaurant/bar.  As we sat at the bar, eating and having an afternoon cocktail, he introduced me to his friends, Andy and Mary, the husband and wife owners.  Because I had lived in Athens for about three years, I could speak a little Greek, so I spoke some to them, “Ti Konis?   Esa kala?” (Apologies for the phonetic spelling.)

Andy was very surprised by me having spoken Greek.  “What else can you say?”  The most impressive thing I knew, by far, was how to sing “I’m a Little Teapot, Short and Stout...”  So I broke into my animated version.  He laughed, “You know, we have an opening for a waitress at lunch...would you be interested?” 

Seeing he was sincere, as well as needing some source of steady income, I took the job.   With the other gal, Linda, we both were hired to handle the newly conceived of and advertised businessman’s lunch.  In those days drinking your lunch was just fine, and if you got hungry too we served a delicious Greek salad and a wicked New York steak sandwich.  I got a free meal each afternoon before the restaurant part closed for the day.  That was a sweet perk for a single gal.

Andy soon handed us both some cash,  “Go get yourselves some of those hot pant things to wear, we want you looking cute.” Any excuse to go shopping on someone else’s dime.  We found some matching beige corduroy shorts with enough pockets where we needed them, and cute shirts to be our uniforms.  She was a tall gal to my five foot one.  Soon we were given nicknames by the regulars; High Pockets and Low Pockets.  It suited us just fine.

                                              Yes, I am Low Pockets! 

There were always wonderful events put on; golf tournaments and special bus trips to go see the Oakland A’s or Oakland Raiders play.  It was a guys’ clubhouse; one I was fortunate to belong to, one of the two or three women sanctioned to hang with the men. 

Gin Rummy was in it’s hey day, the King’s X held our own card tournaments.  The winning team would get a paid trip to Las Vegas to play in the World Championships.  They were always exciting times, and we did very well in tips.

One year we decided to drive to the Vegas airport and surprise the guys as they got off the plane.  We wanted to give them a true King’s X welcome.  Besides Vegas was fun town and we had the weekends off.

Big mistake. My car overheated in the midday sun, so we spent hours in the center divider in the middle of nowhere, just waiting for the sun to go down so my car could cool down. There we were, two attractive women standing along side the car dressed in shorts and halters, the car hood up and not one single person pulled over to see if we needed help. This was very depressing, but eventually darkness came on, the temperature fell enough and we were on our way, sweaty and with our enthusiasm depleted, but still excited.  Such is youth.

It turns out we were only two hours outside of Vegas, so we made it to the airport just in time to welcome the boys.  The surprise on their faces was well worth it.

Linda and I booked a room in a small motel across the street from the Flamingo Hotel. In those days, Las Vegas was not what it is today. The Tropicana was a big deal, as was Ceasar's Palace and Circus-Circus. We headed out once we settled into our room.  You could walk the whole town in those days.

We decided if one of us wanted to go back to the room early, we wouldn't insist the other do so, but definitely no guys would be brought back to the room with us. It seemed only right not to impose some strange guy on the other.

Later on that night Linda decided to retire for the night leaving me alone. I told her to go ahead, I was about ready to go back to our room also, just not quite.  It was around three in the morning and I was walking through the lobby of the Flamingo Hotel when off to the side I noticed someone sitting there, someone rather familiar looking. I walked over to the table where he sat, alone, hoping I would figure out why this man seemed so familiar.

Well, to my surprise it was the Hawaiian entertainer, Don Ho.

Having lived in Hawaii for years, I was very familiar with his show, and in fact, had once been invited onstage with him during his famous song "Tiny Bubbles". I used to go see his show all the time at the International Market Place.

I walked over to him and introduced myself.  He seemed happy for the company and invited me to sit with him. I did, he ordered a drink for me and asked, “Why are you in town?"   I explained to him including adding the bit about having lived in Hawaii and being in his show once.  He knew of the tournament and loved to play Gin Rummy himself. So it was no surprise we got a deck of cards and started playing using small change as our bets.

We were in the middle of one hand when he got up and greeted a guy with a big hug.  This man also looked faintly familiar to me and I would shortly be reminded why when Don introduced me to him.

The man was the legendary singer (now deceased), Johnny Ray.

Johnny was known as the crying singer, as he would cry when he sang. Johnny was also doing a show in Vegas, like Don. He grabbed a chair and sat on the other side of me as I glared at him.  Don introduced me, "Johnny this is Sheila. Sheila meet a good friend of mine, singer Johnny Ray."

I smiled, then it clicked in my brain.  "I'm mad at you."  I blurted out.  He looked at me with a puzzled expression. Don looked surprised and confused.  I was about to explode inside....waiting, waiting.

"Why?" They asked in unison.  

I looked directly into Johnny’s eyes and began, “Johnny, when I was seven years old we lived in Athens, Greece. I was an Air Force Brat you see.  One summer you came to Greece to perform in a small outdoor venue. Do you remember this?"

I could tell he was thinking, trying to remember.  Finally he asked, "Yes, back in the 50's wasn’t it?"

"Yes, that’s right. Well...I was there that night sitting in the front row, just swinging my legs back and forth...waiting.  In fact, two of us were sitting in one chair because we were so small. You went around the entire circle of seats in the front row shaking hands with the men and kissing every woman and girl sitting there including my friend sharing the seat...”  I paused, “... everyone except ME!"  I tried giving him my meanest, hurt look.  Even so I stifled a laugh until finally all three of us busted up laughing.

I harbored those feelings of being "left out" since 1956.   Now some twenty-odd years later I was telling him to his face how hurt I had been.  Sweet justice.  Immediately he leaned over and laid a kiss on my cheek.

I was just as thrilled, maybe more so than I would have been all of those years ago. He left us shortly afterwards, having just put on a show that night. Don and I continued on playing our Gin game.  I remember Don saying, “Remind me to never piss you off!”

We played awhile longer until he too, was tired and wanted to go to bed.  He asked me to go with him, but I too was exhausted so we just hugged and parted ways.  I was replaying my karma moment over and over wearing a huge smile on my face as I left the Tropicana.

Once back at my motel I lay in bed thinking, when it occurred to me Don still owed me $7.35 for beating him in our Gin game!  I always thought I would get it back somehow, but he passed away before I could collect.

 Some girls hold grudges a very long time though.