The Andree Syndrome

     A rite of passage that all males have to  go through. 

   I consider myself a polite male, and my interactions with young pretty girls, to be cordial and proper. It is true that I do notice a mild endearment from waitresses when accompanied by an out of town business men. I attribute this to being   always well groomed and possible my table mate making me look good with my reticence, since some of these visitors are a little flirtatious. The away from home  syndrome perhaps? This all changed for me when I was about forty two years old. I remember the time and place. It has since been re-acted   many times but never so dramatically.

It  was mid week  when I went to dinner with  Andree in Ottawa; the Glebe region to be exact. For those you unfamiliar the Glebe area it is a trendy region bordering Bronson and the Rideau Canal. It has many boutiques and its history houses beg for writers to take up residences providing one member of the family works for National Defense or any other Federal Department above the grade of 4. We stopped at a Bistro that Andree knew. It was  half-empty. Andree is the son of a girl I used to know when I lived in Ottawa. The hostess robotically sat us somewhere I didn’t wanted to be, citing that was all  there was but did smile and ex-change some Senator hockey banter with Andree before returning to her command post to again cut a deck of menus. Maybe she did not like my Alfred Dunhill Blue Diamond Silk Tie? 

   Lucie, our waitress seemed to using a  longer dwell time with Andree than me, in placing our drinks on the table. He happened to mention it would be nice to have a view of the street. Well she led the way carrying Andree’s drink and easing his chair so he had a prime vista of the gardens and street life. I trooped behind and almost tripped on the darken corner step and fortuitously did not spill any of the micro brew.  Before October 2006  Ontario liquor  laws  would not have permitted me to carry my drink. Unfolding Andree’s serviette Lucie then commenced a dissertation on the night’s menu which she had placed in his hand. Now to be fair to Lucie, she did accurately slide a menu over to me without missing her lines which were been said slightly leaning over for Andree’s benefits. I could see her birthstone ring of her right hand when emphasizing the choices of sauces with the duck. There was a tonality shift in Lucie’s voice. I don’t think it was an octave and if Mr Pinchas Zukerman had been present, he might have said a fourth but I think it was a perfect fifth when she addressed me.

“The salmon is from the Atlantic and fresh yesterday, you didn’t bring your glasses?” retorted Lucie in an Ottawa accent.

Now you have to work on distinguishing an Ottawa accent. It sort of has an Irish tilt with French Canadian harmonics running through it. A good place to get snippets is at the Tim Horton’s at the airport and on Rideau Street close to the Chateau Laurie. Often the CBC Radio program interviews an Ottawa resident, who works for the government hoping to gleam some mood in the Nation’s Capital. Andree is French Canadian and spoke perfect Ottawa accented English just like Lucie. Their communication was devoid of the like, like you know youth speech patterns of the West Coast I imagine that Lucie was descendant of Colonel Bye who orchestrated the famous Rideau Canal. I suspect Lucie like (there I go) could have been a personal trainer or actress in another life. I might have mentioned Carlton University and its famous school of journalism but I was never involved much with Lucie. I had much time to contemplate while Andree and Lucie episode. 

Well, you can guess   what happened come desert time? I independently selected apple pie and ice cream whereas Andree after much acclaim had a Galliano parfait with dates. I requested a double espresso and received the bill and a regular coffee with two creamers. I am not sure what concoction Andree drank. 

Andree is as tall as me but 19 years younger. He was wearing no tie and probably a Banana Republic Grey Capri Pants. He may not worry about the National Arts Centre’s Haydn’s Celebration but has poise and a high attraction coefficient. I was not upset at Lucie’s conduct but on the contrary found my technicolour rite of passage amusing. I have discussed this matter with other male buddies all of the same age. It is agreed it is not going to get better. What comes next? A bus pass or a discounted Orpheum ticket for a Brahms Symphony or does the Chan Centre do that? Since that evening I am more aware of how I am received either in a bank, library or store and on rare occasions have an exalted attitude that I may have ellipsed another contender, and admit I enjoy the false gratification.

    I did enjoy the salmon that evening in the Glebe, Ottawa.