Every so often in life you get paid to do things that you would actually pay good money to do. So, Thursday I got to interview Gregory Maguire.
He’s a massive best selling author, the “Wicked” series has sold over 7.5 million books and spawned a musical based that has netted over a $1 billion, Maguire speaks in paragraphs while dropping words I haven’t heard since my literary criticism classes. He’s a literary hero of mine, and for an aspiring novelist to interview someone who essentially dominates a close sub-genre, and also is an openly gay man… yeah, it’s cool.
But because he’s so successful I didn’t so much have my choice of time and the only time that would fit our schedule that was available was 2:30 p.m. on Thursday… no problem I was only working a day shift and if you’re not in a closing section it’s rare that you’ll be in the restaurant after 2 p.m. I should have plenty of time to finish the day job, run home and interview Gregory Maguire and everything would be smooth… sure… plans, good, yep, best laid plans and all that.
One reason most servers don’t like working lunch is because you only get one turn, it comes in at 12:30 and is done by 1:45. Fast, professional, short, and too the point; you rarely, rarely, get a second full turn during a day shift, Thursday was one of them. Thursday was in fact the first lunch shift at the Midtown restaurant I actually two full turns at lunch. Thursday was the first time I had scheduled an interview shortly after a lunch shift.
As it got to be one 1:30 I started timing everything. It started out at 55 minutes, my last table got their lunch at with 45 minutes left, finished their sandwiches with 31 minutes left and then ordered desert with 25 minutes left. The left the restaurant at 2:28, and I placed my call at 2:30.
I had brought my laptop “Just in case” and I set up in the top corner of the restaurant and called Massachusetts one minute after my last table had left the building. I had interviewed him the last time he swung through town and at one point he asked me, “So how’s the whole journalism thing going?”
“Great, great,” I answered as a party downstairs began to sing happy birthday. “Everything is fine.”
You can read the story I’ll eventually write in next Friday’s copy of the Georgia Voice.
Laura, if you’re reading this you still have to pay me.
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