Charity Cabaret

You might see this happen in Atlanta... you could see it in Chicago. 

In New York? A bunch of servers getting together and putting on a cabaret for charity? Most definitely.

Eighteen waiters and waitresses banded together & requested-off for a special event: to sing, dance & monologue their way into the hearts of many. All proceeds will fund a Habitat For Humanity project in New Orleans this fall. Even most of the management was there supporting their staff. Unfortunately, a few people had to hold up the restaurant fort in TSQ and could not attend... that's right, the newbee's.

The cabaret was held at a local theatre right off the Square, and raised over $1200 for the volunteers. I must say, I am very proud of the people I work with. We all have talents and skills that brought us to New York City. We might have to work harder than other people beginning in their careers, but we chose New York. Serving at a restaurant is not a dead end. Of all places to be serving, Times Square is pretty prime. In the meantime, until we are famous or employed full-time... why not put on a cabaret and raise money for a charitable cause?

Can I whip up an amazing ensemble encore of Beethoven Day?

Austin's Wish

Something twisted in my stomach when they wheeled him to my round, six-top table. I'm not a nervous person; I have experience coaching volleyball with the Special Olympics. Children with disabilities aren't disabling to me.. if anything, my smile is a little brighter and my touch a little warmer. 

...but my stomach was twisting. His shirt read "Make-A-Wish Kid" which made me think of good kids... bad things happening to good kids... trying to give good kids good things who were in a bad situation. This particular boy didn't look a day past seven or eight years old.

I approach the table. Looking up at me, here are six, smiling people and one little boy in a high-tech mechanical wheel chair. I swallow hard. 

NYC Waitress: "Welcome, everybody, to Times Square! Are you all hungry or what?" 

Boy in wheelchair: "Excuse me! Can you come closer? I'd like to talk to you. Can you come closer?"

No better way to cut the nerves than to just dive right in.

Boy: "Hello. My name is Austin. Can you guess what?"

NYCW: "What's that, Austin?"

Austin: "I just met Regis Philbman. Can you guess what else next?"

NYCW, smiling: "What's that, Austin?"

Austin: "He asked ME a million dollar question... and I got it right."

NYCW: "Holy smokes! Do I have a celebrity at my table?" 

Austin: "Yep! And there was a limo that took us to meet him. I got to sit next to a super-chef, her name was Rachel Ray. She held my hand. She helped mom take me to the limo after that. Can you guess one more thing last?"

NYCW: "Austin, I'm afraid to guess.. you have so many good surprises!"

Austin: "You and me are friends now, sound okay with you?" 

He has two, big, beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. It's hard for him to see, even with his thick glasses. He has soft, brown hair that is combed-back to one side. There is an an energy that rips through his hands and fingers, keeping him always ticking and moving. Austin is sick, yet he never stops smiling. Every few seconds you'd hear him shriek at something happening outside the window on the Square -- things like, "look!" or "WOW did you hear that HORN HONK?"

If you're not familiar with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, let me explain a few things. It's a grassroots organization that sprouted in 1980 when a little boy with a life-threatening heart condition had only one wish, to be a police officer. How hard was it to give him a helmet, a badge, and a mini-police uniform? It cost the local police department pennies to put together... and a child relished in complete and whole happiness. 

Austin's dream was to come to New York City and meet Regis Philbin, the original host behind Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. He wanted to ride in a taxi cab and pay for it himself. To seal his wish, he wanted a meal in Times Square.

Fellow servers keep asking, "So, what's he got?" or "Do you know what's wrong with him?" Truthfully, whether it would make a better blog or not, I choose to keep this part private. I will say, however, that his condition is life-threatening and requires around-the-clock care. 

Austin asked about our restaurant's chef. He wants to know who prepared his meal.

A kid's meal: a miniature hamburger, or chicken tenders, or fish sticks; you know the kind. Our kid's meal comes out with a side of jello and an orange slice, packaged in a little cardboard contraption, complimenting our restaurant's theme. To any other person, it's just an over-priced kid's meal.

He wants to say thank-you in person. He wants to thank the chef for taking the time to make his food amazing.

Austin: "This is DELICIOUS! I am so happy with this wonderful MEAL!" 

I'm glowing all the way to our kitchen. A manager is on expo tonight, running the line. With his chef apron on, he meets with our boy. It's safe to say that as the restaurant staff, we received just as much (if not more) from Austin's wish-visit as he will take home.

The family prepared to leave, happiness all-around. Earlier, I promised Austin a few moments on the loud-speaker & mic. Our sound system can be heard over parts of the restaurant, used for calling out parties' names & seating. 

We turned on the wireless mic and made an announcement... we have a special guest, and he needs to speak for a moment.

Austin: "I just wanted to say thanks, everybody. This was pretty cool. We had some pretty good food. It was YUM-MY. I hope you have what I had. You know, I met Regis tonight. That was cool, too. I'm happy... really happy, everybody. Thanks again!"

Austin covered his ears as the crowd hollered and cheered around his chair; the volumes of people might have caused Austin to cover his ears, but the volumes of happiness that radiated out from his smile surpassed them all.