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The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me By, Shawn M. Cohen

If there was a place I could be other than in Dr. River's office, I guessed I would have been there. I sighed as I knocked on his door, here I am again. He opened the door with a warm smile, shook my hand and guided me to the chair where I would spill my guts. I asked him what should I talk about and his response was, "anything you want." I thought about the myriad of issues floating around my head, but the one thing that was puzzling me was my new job at The Encore,however the training with Gilbert was going well. I worked every day with him behind the bar, and I was learning so much more. How to make a drink in a shaker, like a martini, and what goes in a Pina Colata, just for starters. How to pour the perfect draft beer, and so on, Gilbert was truely a Master Mixologist. Mixing drinks was fun, even if the dirty old men at the daytime bar were getting their rocks off watching my breasts shake under my blouse as I mixed the drinks. I saw it, it was obvious when their tongues were hanging out. "I'm now training as a bartender at my job." I offered him up for questioning. "Is that something you want to do?" he asked me with interest. "Well, I can't say it was ever in my plans of what I would do, but it seems to be going ok." I could not brave it to tell him I was being ogled by the daytime "alchies" who perched at Gilbert's bar; their second home. "I feel embarrassed sometimes when they stare at me." I said in a softer voice. Dr. Rivers looked at me, and pondered this. "Why do it then if it makes you feel uncomfortable?" I thought about how Art said he would watch over me, when I make my big debut on my first night but I never factored in the training in the daytime where Gilbert, who was nothing but sweet and polite to me, could take over from Art...especially when Art wasn't there. Somehow, it wasn't the same. "I know my Boss will watch over me when I finish my training, and I think it will be ok, anyway, I'll make more money." Dr. Rivers thought and didn't say anything so I quickly changed the subject. "I guess if I could I would go back to school, it's summer now anyway... but this is it for now." He nodded. "Shawn, I wonder if you would like to read a book that I found very useful. It is a book I base all my therapy with clients on, and it might give you some insight into yourself and others." I was interested, "Yes, what it is?" Dr. Rivers went to a shelf and took off a book, which he then handed to me. I read the title aloud, "Games People Play, Transactional Analysis, By, Dr. Eric Bernes." I looked up at him. "It will help you to understand that we all relate from three places in our psyche, which are: the Parent State, the Adult State, and the Child State but not all together and often not when we should. You'll see what I mean, will you read it and let me know what you think about it next week?" "Yes, ok." I agreed and I was curious. I asked him questions about this book. He answered them all. Then we talked about my family. And my time in California. And some of my dreams. Then that was it, our time was up for that day. I went to the car, put the book down on the front seat and drove home. I had another day of training and I had to be at the Encore by 11:30 am. I was not used to the daytime again. I changed into my black slacks and a striped cotton shirt for behind the bar. This time I would not wear my heels as they kept getting caught in the slats on the floor. There was always a wooden slatted floor that bartenders walked on behind the bar. I didn't know why it was there but I guessed so when the water or booze or ice went on the floor the bartender wouldn't slip and break their neck! I entered into the blackness which was The Encore, Shadyside. "Hi Shawn, how ya doing today?" it was Gilbert giving me a big hello. I smiled at him when my eyes adjusted from the hot July morning sun to this darkened room. The waitresses were all getting ready for the lunch crowd and were there before me. I spent just 3 hours there with Gilbert. He was the boss here, and I his meager assistant/trainee. I crawled under the service bar and put my purse under the shelf behind the bar. "You take the service bar today, Shawn, any problem, just shout, ok?" I hoped I was ready for this. So far my training was for 3 days. Was I ready for the fast lunch crowd and the waitresses who I did not want to screw up their orders for their customers? I could feel my face getting hot. "INCOMING!" shouted Franny to me. She must have wondered what the hell I was doing there. In fact, they all must have, but nevertheless I was there, acting like I knew what I was doing with the bravest of bravado. "What do you need, Fran?" "3 Miller Lites, 2 Drafts- Coors, and 1 Coke." I reached down to the bottles beers and opened 3 Miller Lites, she took the glasses from me as well. I iced the Coke glass and poured it into the glass from the well. I then got out two draft beer mugs and set one under the beer tap and leaned it in as I poured it, to get the right amount of head on the beer. So far, so good. "Not bad, you're learning but a bit faster." Fran took her drinks on her tray and went speedily to her tables. " A dry Martini on the Rocks and two Manhattans and one White Wine Spritzer, please," was the next waitress's call to me. I got the shaker, filled it with ice and took the shot glass and as Gilbert had taught me, to a long 3 count or a short 10 count...in my head I counted as I poured the Gin into the shot..".One...two...three.." then into the shaker and then added the touch of dry Vermouth. I shook the mix, held the strainer and poured it into the Martini glass, now the Manhattans.. I mixed two shots worth of Rye Whiskey, added the sweet Vermouth and then a dash of bitters, strained and into two glasses with ice in them. Now, the White Wine Spritzer; a tall glass filled with ice, added the white wine from the well, added a bit of soda. Done. The waitresses all dressed the drinks, with cocktail straws and cherries or lemon twists or olives. The day went on and it was touch and go, I was learning but not fast enough. I had to whip those drinks out in seconds, and I wasn't even taking the money yet, or adding the costs up in my head! "You'll get the speed, it will come, don't worry!" Gilbert assured me. "Hey, whose the sexy new bartender, Gilbert?!" One guy called out as I was pouring drinks for my waitresses. "That's Shawn, and she is a great gal, I am training her..now be nice!" Gilbert admonished him. Gilbert was very nice to me and protective of me but I had to get used to this and I knew it. I had to find the way to "quip back" or I might get slaughtered here. Luckily I had made some plans. The daytime music in the Encore was from the Hi Fi, 70's classics of soft rock, easy listening and what was in the charts. The live jazz was at night.
I was looking forward to tonight. Robbie and I were going out for the evening, hitting this new disco which opened downtown called, "Heaven". We heard it was great and wanted to check it out. Since I was training during the day, I wasn't working nights but I was being paid as a bartender, so that was ok. My tips were from the waitresses, just like I used to give the bartender, but I told Gilbert, that this was his money. "No, I insist! You earned it!" he said. I had gone through the ropes, spilled a few drinks, dropped a few glasses and broke them and cut myself when I was slicing more lemons for the garnish boxes. Some of my Dad's cronies were in there, too, just glaring at me. Gilbert gave me a wink and we just kept working. I had earned it all. I left there stinking of booze with a bandage on my hand. But Thank the Lord for the Night Time...as I was going out dancing, and I was going to have a good time with Robbie. "What time will you pick me up?" I called her when I got home. "About 10:00? Don't want to get there too early. Hey Shawnny, what are you wearing?" she asked me also excited. "I don't know, it's hot as hell, what are you wearing?" I asked back. "I'll find something cool, but the air conditioning will be on, too." She was right, everywhere was air conditioned. I was thinking about our electric bill now, as I enjoyed the comfort of our air conditioning at home. Something I never thought about before...wondering what that will cost me? I left that question hanging in mid air. Had a shower, washed the smell of booze and bar off me. I took out a black twirl skirt with a big belt, which I had also bought at "Yesterday's News", the length was to the calf and a red cotton sleeveless top, which had a sweet round collar with little pearl buttons. I wore red heels with little white ankle socks, and a clutch bag which was also red, put my make-up on with red lipstick, too. Robbie beeped for me and I came out to her mother's car which she was borrowing. I was so happy to see her.She looked great, too. It was her night off from the Top Shelf and she didn't want to waste it. I knew I had to get up early but the heck with it, we were going out to dance, maybe meet some guys and enjoy what all girls our age were doing. We entered the gates of Heaven as if we had landed in Gay Heaven. I looked around this vast place with 3 floors and I shouted in Robbie's ear...above the Disco music which was pounding the heaving dance floor, "any straight men in here??" Robbie looked around..."Not a one!" We both laughed. "Screw it, let's get a drink anyway." I said, watching the men dancing with each other. She nodded and we headed for the bar. We weren't the only women there, there were many, probably just as perplexed as us, but the music was brilliant and so was the dance floor. "Well, the music is great...let's dance anyway, and we'll head over to the Rhino later." Dancing on the disco floor I never saw so many gorgeous looking men. "Robbie, look at him." I was pointing them out, one by one and some you would never know if they weren't holding another man's hands to dance. "Yeah, oh my God! He's beautiful! Well, at least we'll be safe in here!" She shouted back as we danced away. I had to laugh. The music was the real star of this show and what the heck, we might lose a few pounds, we got up and boogie oggie, oggied, till we just couldn't boogie no more! This Gay Disco knew how to throw a heck of a party!

(See The Disco Video on the right and all the 70's Videos to get an idea of what music was playing on the radio during this time besides the Jazz at The Encore.)

The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me By, Shawn M. Cohen. Copyright 2010. These excerpts are from a book I have been writing of the same name. All events are true, some names are changed to protect people's privacy. All Video content and the music therein is copyrighted to the musicians, performers and songwriters. No copyright infringement intended.

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The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me by, Shawn M. Cohen

What did I want? That question reeled in my head, as if it was the very first time I ever heard it. I asked myself as Dr. Rivers looked at me, waiting for my answer. I did not know...well... I knew what I didn't want. I didn't want this responsibility. I wanted to be my age, and to be able to live like my friends. I wanted to be in L.A. and in my apartment with the little bits of furniture Reva and I had, and finish my finals so that term was not completely lost to my college credits. I wanted safety, security, and a chance at life like anyone else..and I wanted my parents to GROW UP, and handle their own problems instead of dumping them on me! That is what I wanted. But as I relayed this to the teary eyed Dr. Rivers, he announced that unfortunately, "Our time is up now." and I was cast off to announce my revelation in next week's time slot. I left there dazed. Was this what therapy was? Someone who listened and actually heard what you said? Then offered advice? In the end, as I left, and heard myself say, "yes, same time next week." I wondered what I was getting myself into. Yet, it seemed this was always the way. I had gotten myself in too deep with Glen, who had gotten himself in too deep with me. I was working underage at this Jazz nightclub in Shadyside, and although it was working out, I knew I was lying to them about my age. Now maybe that was incidental, maybe this was just a "who cares?" technicality but I didn't like lying, nor being lied to. In the meantime, while my little world was collapsing, America was celebrating its Bicentenial, 200 years old as of July 4, 1976. Celebrations were planned all over the USA, including Pittsburgh, Shadyside and The Encore. I walked into work, with banners displayed all over in red, white and blue, saying, "Happy Birthday, USA!" People came in with tall hats on like "Uncle Sam" wears in those old WWII posters imitating America, saying, "I WANT YOU" and there was general all around excitement building for the coming evening's celebration. Every bar, disco and restaurant on Walnut Street and in Shadyside has their own celebrations. I worked upstairs again in the restaurant and that was less noisy and crazy as the crowd downstairs got more into the night, fun, and the drinks. Art came upstairs to check everyone was stocked and ready for a busy night ahead early on and then I didn't see him the whole night until we were done, and the restaurant closed about 12:30am. The bar downstairs and the band were still going strong. I cashed out, making out pretty good tip wise and Art stopped me as I was ready to leave. In a raised voice he asked, "Did you do ok tonight, Shawn?" I nodded my head, "yes," as the band was playing loudly, a jazz standard I had come to recognize as "Around Midnight". The place was packed, 4 deep at the bar, people everywhere. "You in tomorrow?" he asked again. "Yes" again I said it but you could not hear my voice, nodding. "Ok, see ya then, come in early, I want to talk to you, ok?" he was surveying the crowd with quick glances and then back at me as I stood by the front door, ready to leave. "Ok, why, what's up?" I asked, loudly,thinking maybe I did something wrong. "Nothing, just want to talk, not bad, now, don't worry!" and he winked at me and smiled with that grin. A grin that told me he could be up to something. Next thing I knew the bartender was shouting, "Art, I am out of Barcardi, Glenfiditch and Zambuka!" Art signaled to him, and he was off to go to the liquor storage cabinet which only he had a key to. I walked out into the July night air to the huge display of fireworks blasting off from everywhere. BOOM! I walked over to my mother's car, parked in the parking lot in the back, and got into the front seat. I was wondering, as I drove home watching the sky light up here and there with brilliant displays of color and screething sounds, big booms, and crackles, what on earth Art wanted? Tomorrow is, as only Scarlett O'Hara would know, another day!
I was scheduled downstairs for my next shift, but I showed up at 4:15pm, and asked Gilbert if Art was in. He said, "Yeah, he is upstairs, I think he is waiting for you." Now I was worried, what could he want? I went upstairs, with a bit of tightening in my chest. Art was sitting in the empty restaurant, at the bar reading his newspaper, as if nothing was happening at all. I approached him by his left side and he spun towards me on the bar stool, as I stood there, facing him. "Hi Art, I am in early, like you wanted." smiling at him. I had worn a tuxedo jacket I had found at "Yesterday's News" with a man's tuxedo shirt and a black clip on tux bow tie, black trousers with a tuxedo strip down them, even a red cumberbun. He must have liked what he saw, as his eyes lit up. "Wow, you look very nice in that, Shawn." The 70's had the greatest liberation of fashion, and I loved mixing different styles, wearing various "outfits", like a look, a costume, an old style from the '40's, '50's, '60's brought forward, even mixing men's clothes with womens as a fashion statement. All done for a song, at Yesterday's News, which was my little secret. I blushed, as usual but was glad he got the look, and I said, "Thanks, Art, you wanted to see me?" He put down his paper, and asked me this, "How do you think you are doing at The Encore? I mean, do you like working here?" Uh-oh, now I was going to get fired, I was sure. "Yes, Art, I like working here, and the people are nice, too." That was all I could think to say. I held my breath. "Listen, Shawn, how would you like to be a bartender here?" the sound of those words were like he, the ex heavyweight boxer, hit me with his best shot. For a moment, I was stunned...what, a bartender?? I just looked at him like what he just said didn't get absorbed by my ears. " I, I, I don't know.." was all I could offer, but relieved I wasn't about to be fired. "Look, we need a bartender for upstairs and I want you to have the job, what do you think of that?" His face beamed with excitement offering me this postition. "But Art, I have never tended bar before, I mean, I don't know how..." I wanted to be honest with him. "Honey, I know, that is why I am going to make sure you are trained by the best in the business, Gilbert, downstairs. You'll come in for a week, work with him behind the bar, watch him during the day, learn all you need to learn from him, and he is the best this city has! Then start upstairs here, on a regular shift of 4 nights a week, you can still waitress, too, other nights, what do you say??" I could feel my cheeks burning with the redness of embarrassment, yet again. He seemed to have notice it, (how could you not!?) and asked, "What's wrong, don't you want to be a bartender?" How could I tell him? It was bad enough some of the men downstairs thought YOU were on the menu with the drinks. I put up with this night after night men looking at my chest, instead of my face, or pinching my rear, while the whole table laughed. I saw them stare at me, as if I was on display just for them, and it all gave me the creeps. But now, as I saw it, I would be on permanant display. Bars were like this, I told myself, just ignore it, I told myself, the other girls go through this, too, I told myself, and I convinced myself it was the way it was, and it didn't matter. But the truth was, it did upset me and I didn't like it. Art asked me again, "What is it? You can tell me, now, come on..." his voice was sweet, caring. Still I couldn't tell him that, so I said, and it was true, too, "How can I become a bartender, when there are so many other waitresses who have been here so much longer than me? It wouldn't be fair, and then they might not be happy and blame me, you know?" Art stood up. "You let ME worry about that, ok? Now, what else is bugging you?" he sat back down, lit his cigar and took a puff while I thought again. I couldn't tell him, what would he think of me? "No, Art, I don't want to, thank you but I am happy as I am now, please give it to someone else, ok?" He pushed his thick black curly hair out of his eyes, and he said, in Marlon Brandon voice, "Listen,Kid, I am making you an offer you can't refuse! I laughed out loud, and that seemed to calm my fears a bit. "You are helping your mother, right?" He asked me. "Yes" I said. "So, you need money, right?" I nodded again. "Bartenders get paid more, Shawn, so take the job." I thought about this, and it hit me that that would be a good reason to do it. I never saw any women bartenders here. I knew it was uncommon and maybe, if I could get over this sense of being on "display" maybe this could be something that would help me and the remnants of my family. "Ok, now, one more time, are you going to do this?" He was smiling, waiting with baited breath for me to say, Yes.He looked straight in to my eyes, staring, waiting. And I stood there,frozen. "Say it now, right now, what is it you are afraid of??" He could see I was holding back. His black eyebrows raised, waiting for my real answer. I took a deep breath and out came the truth, "Ok, this is what I am afraid of... I don't like being on display, ok? I know it kind of goes with the job but if I was a bartender it would be even more so, and I just won't feel comfortable." He stood up and said, "Is that it? That's what you are afraid of??" He laughed a bit and offered me this, "You take this job, Shawn, take it, and don't be afraid of nothing, ya hear me! I am gonna sit at this bar every single night you work, and if any asshole, any jag off says something off color to you, or even looks at you the wrong way, he'll have ME to answer to! Now, that's it, take the job, please." I thought about just how busy we get, how much running around he does from the upstairs to the downstairs but mostly he is downstairs and I had to ask, "How can you sit there every night when you have a whole bar downstairs to run as well?" He stood up, faced me and leaned into me, with assurity and a smile he said, " You trust me, don't you? I haven't steered you wrong yet, have I? You leave that to me!" I had to surrender now, he had conquered my every fear, and now all I had to do was say what he was waiting for..."Ok, Art, I'll take the job!" He shook my hand as if we had made a business deal and said, "Whew,(wiping his brow) You drive a hard bargain! Welcome aboard, Champ!" I had to laugh. Me, a female bartender...go figure?
(see video by Neil Diamond...Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon)

The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me, by Shawn M. Cohen. Copyright 2010. All events are true but some names have been changed for privacy. All video content is the copyright of the respected artists, musicians, composers and performers. No copyright infringement intended.

The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me by, Shawn M. Cohen

The Story thus far...most of which I didn't know upon my arrival at The Encore and meeting Art Swiden.... Just click on the videos on the right, one by one for the music that Art loved. He wore his side burns like Elvis in 1976, and he loved Elvis, Sinatra and Jazz. There are no need for words, as the songs say it all. Scroll up or down as the videos play so you can see the slideshow of newspaper clippings. All newspaper clippings are copyright to their respected newspapers and journalists and authors and the music videos are also copyright to their respected artists, songwriters and performers. No copyright infringement intended.
The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me, by Shawn M. Cohen. Copyright 2010.

Joni Mitchell - All I Want (Live) 1974

The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me by, Shawn M. Cohen

I worked my nights at the Encore, making more money and having a good time with the other waitresses. There was gossip about Art, as usual but I always found him helpful, funny and sweet to me, so I just ignored it and got on with my job. I went upstairs and worked the restaurant of the Encore in Shadyside, discovering that all the food was sent up by a dumbwaiter from the kitchen downstairs. This made for some hilarious episodes by the kitchen staff sending up joints instead of food, and all manor of goofing around! The girls laughed as we witnessed the series of funny things they would send up to us. Funny drawings, food that looked like body parts, you name it they did it in between the real food orders. I was enjoying the fun. People came upstairs to eat as an evening out, enjoying the quiet meals, mostly before the band came in. The upstairs bartender was one from downstairs. The bar was smaller and rectangular like the main one downstairs but half the size. Joni, Terry and I were working a Thursday evening when Art came upstairs to read the paper and smoke his cigar. It was mildly busy and he just seemed to want some space to chill out. I didn't think anything of this as I was busy serving my tables. I went to the service bar and asked John for my order. "2 Rolling Rocks and a Bud", I called to John as he came towards the waitresses' service bar. He nodded his head and went towards the small fridge to get them. Suddenly, the upstairs phone rang. John picked it up, saying, "Encore, Upstairs Bar, can I help you?" He looked over at Art and said in a low voice, "It's for you, Art." The phone cord reached over to where he was sitting at the end of the bar. I was still waiting on my 3 bottled beers for my customers when I heard Art's raised voice, "Leave me alone, I told you, we are divorcing now, don't call me at work!" He gave the phone back to John as if it was a snake and ruffled his paper as he sat down to read the Sports section. I was still waiting for my beers and John turned and said, with his hand on his head, "Oh, yeah, here's your beers, sorry, Shawn." I took them with their frosted glasses and put them on my waitress tray and said lowering my voice so Art couldn't hear me, "Is Art OK, what was all that about?" John said to me in another whisper, although the soft jazz music on the stereo sound system muffled our conversation, "Yeah, that's his wife, she torments him, he is getting a divorce but apparently she's a bit nuts and won't leave him alone." He rolled his eyes when he said this. "Oh, I didn't know that." was all I could say as I turned to serve my thirsty customers. The night went on. Art came back to the waitresses station in the back where the food came up from the dumbwaiter downstairs. Art had a playful grin on his face, seeing the marijuana joint left on the side, he said to Terry. "Where'd this baby come from?" He held it, smelt it as if it was a cigar. "The kitchen, where else?" Terry answered back laughing. Art looked at me, raised his eyebrows with a grin as I was taking off my food for my table. When the dumbwaiter was clear he winked at me and yelled down into the dumbwaiter using his lowered, gruff voice.."I better not find out who has been sending illegal substances up through this dumb waiter cos if I do, their fired!!" He turned to me and Joni, who was now back there and said, "Mmm, don't mind if I do!" and slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. We all laughed and so did he. "I'm coming down there right now, ya here me!!" He was giggling like a naughty boy to us but scaring the begeezus out of the kids in the kitchen. You could just imagine them all scrambling for a story of defence! Meanwhile, it was the mid 1970's, everyone was smoking pot. I mean everyone but no one did it out and about. The hippy days and all it's music, the counter culture and it's Baby Boom in the '50's leading to the "Me Generation" which was now still going strong. I know because I was part of that and grew up in that. When the Doors were playing at the Civic Arena, my friends went when we were in 8th grade. The famous story was that they had older sisters who took them, and they waited for Jim Morrison to come out from the stage door. They waited for an hour, diligently, and they would not be disappointed. He appeared with a brown suede fringe jacket on and one of my friends...was it Reva, Robbie, or Rae-Gayle, I can't remember, grabbed a bit of fringe and yanked till it was firmly in their hand! The many nights we all went to the Civic Arena and saw The Moody Blues, Jethro Tull, Black Sabbath, Yes, The Who, during those years were still fixed memories in my brain. But how when the whole arena was high on pot, was another story! When we were all Usherettes at The Syria Mosque, a smaller venue for concerts ,and got the grand sum of $4.00 to usher in the first act, we could then sit and watch the main act anywhere there was a seat. This was to us, the best job in the world. Judi got me that job, and I got the rest on board. That went on most of High School so in 4 years time, we got to see a heck of a lot of headliners. While the whole arena was filled with the whiff of pot, we saw, Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills and Nash, sometimes with Young, Van Morrison, Jim Croche, and Carly Simon and James Taylor, (before they married) and so many wonderful others. It was a music lover's dream. One night Anne and I went to work to see the Bee Gees. Saturday Night Fever hadn't come out yet. We saw two seats in the front row and grabbed them after we had Ushered in our black skirts and white top uniform. We had changed quickly into our jeans and got our pay and were up front watching them. I reached my hand up, like we all did and Robin Gibb shook my hand! Afterwards, we went to eat in a restaurant within the Hilton nearby and guess who walked in to eat themselves? Yep, the Bee Gees. We tried not to stare, but God knows we did. It was a lot of fun. That era was clearly leaving. Soft rock would still have it's day, and here I was now working in a Jazz Club. Afterwards I might go out to the Gaslight, or a Disco with my friend Robbie, or now some of the other waitresses. That was my life, thus far. Reva and I would catch up on the telephone, which was always expensive. And there was little news of Glen. Mike had seen him not long ago, she told me, and he was thinking of leaving L.A and moving to San Diego. That was it, sadly, no mention of me. I was wearing my 1940's suits like an actress playing a part. The part of a grown up, who somehow was leaving behind whatever dreams and childhood I had and one evening my mother came to me again and said, "Please go back and see Dr. Rivers." We had another argument about it. I wanted to say, "Why don't you go and leave me alone!" But children didn't speak to their parents like that then. There was a line to how much you could say and how much you could get away with saying. In fact, it dawned on me that people don't often say what they mean or maybe mean what they say. My older brother finally showed up to mow the lawn. He was out in the hot early July sun and I did feel sorry for him. He said my father was living with this woman now. He couldn't say any more, because I might tell our mother, and she could use it against him in court. I tried to argue that this was all crazy and it had somehow fallen on me to take care of her. "Your Problem!" was all he could say, aloof and not interested, as usual. My sister would also be coming home. Living with her again was not what I wanted to do. I never got along with her and this summer her now coming home was certainly no exception. She must have felt the same way because she told me over the phone she would be moving into her own apartment when she came home. "whew", I thought, although I wondered where the hell she got the money from to do that? Meanwhile, the day came where I was again sitting in front of Dr. Rivers, the Episcopalian Minister turned Psychotherapist. The threat of never being able to use my mother's car again put me there. I was furious when I went. I had worked the evening before, and we were so busy, I hadn't had enough sleep, so I was cranky as hell at 11:30am. Now that I was serving the public at the Encore, I really saw no sense in wasting his time. "I have nothing to say, and I am sorry that my appointment will probably be as before, my mother made me come here, and said if I don't I won't be able to use her car. I need it for work." He commented this way, "This is your space to say what you feel, what you want to say, or just say nothing, either way, I am here for you." I didn't know where to put my eyes so I just looked down at my shoes most of the time. The time went slow but eventually I noticed there was about 10 minutes left as I was also watching my wristwatch. He asked me where I was working and I answered, "The Encore, waitressing." He asked me if that was a job I enjoyed, and I answered "yes, for now." He asked me if I had gone to college or were thinking about it because I was so young. Something in me when he asked me that question snapped, my face felt like it would explode in tears but I fought them back. I don't cry easily and when I did I certainly wasn't going to do it in front of him! But I thought I would just give him the low down of my life, and then I could just get out of there, there were 5 minutes left. "Look," I began, "I was dragged back to Pittsburgh kicking and screaming, ok? My father ran off with his secretary, a real piece of work, too, he is, always a bully, never nice to us but I told my mother you are better off without him and yet my mother is paralysed by it and by the way he left my mother with nothing, no money, took it all. Now she is on food stamps. She has never worked, only as an actress in local playhouses, which pay zilch! And get this, the secretary isn't even much younger, and she is ugly, too. My mother at least is beautiful! But I was 19 years old, had a great apartment in West Hollywood with my best friend from here, she and I went to Santa Monica City College, I get a call from my mother in mid March, as I was approaching finals, that I had to stop everything and come home! And home to what??! My parents hate each other, my older brother is a head case who beat us all up when we were kids, spoiled by my father but crazy because he has some fucked up problem! He has to touch things, anything, all the time, back and forth, could be a 100 times, but if you tell him not to do it, he hits you, see? And my sister who is about to come home now, oh what joy! She is a year younger then me, dresses like a man, talks non stop about a load of bull shit, non stop, can't stop. Even when I walk out of the room, she is still blabbing away...another nut case, so you see, why I am here, is a fucking joke! And my younger brother, the only one who I think is normal, he is 17, trying to finish high school, what hope does he have now?!!" Dr. Rivers did something after my rant that I never saw before...never saw a man do...he bursts into tears! He whiped them off his face and blew his nose with the box of Kleenex nearby but he could not stop crying. I was so shocked by this all I could ask was, "Why are you crying?" He cleared his throat and tried to speak, still crying, "Because your story is so sad, so upsetting. I could not help myself." Now I did not know where to put myself, was this my fault? "I am sorry I made you cry." I hopelessly offered. "No, Shawn, you didn't make me cry, your story touched me deeply and it is I who wonders why when you tell such a sad and painful story, that you don't cry." he blew his nose again. "I guess because I have heard it a million times, and because I am so used to it, it doesn't affect me like that, I don't know why." I was wondering why now. "Your brother who "touches" things, this is a form of mental illness, and your sister who can't stop talking, this is another form of mental illness. I know you see this, and now I am going to tell you something." I listened with intent, because here was someone who actually realized what I had been screaming to my parents for years but to no avail. "You must be an awfully strong person to have got through all that. And now, with the responsibility of what's left of your family falling on such young shoulders, how will you go on?" I didn't know, I didn't like it but I didn't know, so I just said, "I don't know, working and giving my mother what I can?" I offered quietly. "Shawn, it is not your responsibility to take care of your family. You are a young woman, a woman who should be in college, not picking up the pieces from your parent's divorce and your siblings lives." I sighed. I guess it was relief, because he seemed to be on my side. He was the only one who ever said this to me. Everyone else seemed to think this was what I was suppose to do. My mother, my father, my siblings and my Aunt. As if he read my mind, he added, "What about what you want?"

see Joni Mitchell's Video, "ALL I WANT" taken from her 1974 album above. It is also on the link on the right of this excerpt. All copyright of music to the musicians, singers and performers.
The Pittsburgh Phantom and Me, by Shawn M. Cohen. Copyright 2010. Excerpts taken from a book of the same name I am currently writing, a non-fiction memoir. All events are true but some names have been changed for privacy.