magic fingers
Sunday, February 5th, 2006
In previous entries I’ve mentioned that most weekends I usually take my grandmother out to lunch. Well, yesterday, my sister Kate, her boyfriend, and I took my grandmother to Steak N Shake, and as we were leaving, I turned around and saw this little old man sitting in one of the booths. I wasnt entirely sure, but he totally fucking looked like the famous show-tune organist, vacuum cleaner collector, and subject of the documentary "Stan Kann: The Happiest Man In the World". I expressed my suspicion to my sister and she agreed that there was a resemblance and that it could possibly be him, but was hesitant to admit that it was actually him because knew she what I would probably do. I told her that I would feel creepy going up and asking him if he was who I thought he was, and that it would probably be very flattering for him to be recognized in public by a young woman. She said that there was absolutely no way she was going up and talking to some random old man that may or may not be Stan Kann, and that she herself would feel creepy doing this too. We probably argued about this for ten minutes. My grandmother sided with my sister saying that it couldn’t possibly be Stan Kann. I told Kate that even if it wasn’t Stan Kann, it would still be very flattering for him to be mistaken for a celebrity. Either way I said that it would make both of our days if she did this, and her boyfriend said that it would make his too, so she finally reluctantly agreed. She went over and discreetly asked if he was Stan Kann, and I saw the look of affirmation as she shook his hand and lied telling him that she was a big fan. It was totally him, right there in Steak N’ Shake. I went over and shook his hand too, and told him what a treasure he was, and what an honor it was. His hand was surprisingly smooth and soft for someone who had been playing show-tunes for over 60 yrs. He told me how fabulous it was that young people should be so interested in show-tunes and organ music, and that he played out at the Bevo Mill sometimes and that maybe if I came by we could knock back a few sidecars together. I told him that would be a lovely idea and that I would have to do that soon. And as my sister and I turned to leave, I felt swift but gentle pinch to my backside. I thought that maybe my sister had decided to goose me, but then I thought that the pinch had been much too soft and gentle to be my sister. She was fairly unhappy with me for making her talk to him, and I figured that if she were to pinch my butt, I would have really felt it. The thought that it might have been my grandmother crossed my mind too, but the pinch was so quick and stealth; she’s much too frail. I realize that it could have only been the magic fingers of Stan Kann.
