Sweet City Woman

“Ouch! Damn it! I don’t remember this being so difficult.”

Jackie clambered up the rusty maintenance ladder onto the highest platform on the roof of her apartment building in Brooklyn. She went up there whenever she needed to find some peace…and have a movie worthy background for some wine. It was the one place she felt free and all alone at the very same time. Jackie would watch everyone go about their business down on the sidewalks, sip and wonder what each of their lives were holding. A place for her to look at the city instead of being looked at by the city. A place of peace that only her and the building maintenance man knew about. She was lucky enough to have never come across him. Except that one time. She thought to herself. That one time you were pouring Champagne on the people walking by on New Years…

“I bet he found it hilarious eventually, after scolding me and threatening to tell my landlord. I’ll never regret it to this day.” She murmured to herself. Your therapist doesn’t feel the same way. Her thoughts trailed off. Tonight though it seemed the wind was blowing straight through her soul and not through her hair, how she preferred it, less messy.

Jackie headed back down to her apartment after finishing a couple glasses of her favorite orange Muscadet from the Canary Islands. Though she lived in New York City and was the first girl out of her mothers' four to have an esteemed career she couldn’t and wouldn’t ever let herself forget where she came from, which was nowhere good. But she would be damned if she was just another sommelier who made something like grape juice scary. Jackie always aimed to live a luxury lifestyle without the presumptuous and pretentious vibes behind it. At least that’s what she determined after her first Grand Cru Champagne tasting up on 38th Street. My God, what a peacock feather show. I wanted to hang out with the winemakers all evening but the predominately male attendance wanted to, instead, have small unrelated to wine chit chat. And one of them asked about my neck tattoo which is harmless when you don’t follow up with:

“Must be difficult to find work as a sommelier looking like that.” It wasn’t. Jackie ran two fine dining wine programs in two different boroughs.

“Must be difficult to have a wine key sized…”


“JACKIE THERE YOU ARE!” Her wine rep who she had lost in the midst of the bubbly chaos interrupted that little exchange. Saving her from, well, herself. Jerk.

Jackie threw on her jeans, freshly pressed white button down and slicked her hair back. Looking at her phone, gladly realizing she was feeling a little more celebratory after three glasses of that wine, she checked the time.

“No! I’m late!” She ran to her kids for last minute good-byes. “I’m sorry babies, I love you, I’ll see you tonight!” Jackie smushed and kissed her peppy Chihuahua and slow, greying Shih Tzu. My favorite men on the planet. She thought as she ran towards the subway. The A train waits for no one, sometimes she felt it especially didn’t wait for her.

Jackie headed to a bar in Manhattan on 4th and 6th that doubled as a pizza joint. Literal city perfection. She was meeting her only friend who had just been getting out of work a block away.

“Jackie!” Walter shouted as he entered the bar.

“Over here babe, I ordered some slices and a couple shots.”

“Shots? Already?”

“Yes, Walter, shots already. It’s our weekend.” It was Monday. But that’s a part of the microcosm world of the service industry, along with working insane hours and being hospitable to sometimes inhospitable folks, our weekends are something of an illusion to nine to fivers.

“And we are celebrating.” Jackie side eyed Walter as she reminded him. He knew good and well that meant they were both Ubering home that night. Walter paused to hug her tightly. She squirmed but quickly softened to allow her friend to be there. He grasped her shoulders and looked her right in her big brown eyes.

“You’re right.” He lifts the glass. “Salute!”

“Always am.” Walter knocks his glass into Jackies’, they clink, hit the bottom of the glass to the bar and shoot back some cheap whiskey.

“Na zdrowie!” Jackie cheers.

Walter was the hardest working GM that Jackie had the pleasure of interviewing almost a year ago now and they had become great friends which was a concept that had proven to be very difficult for her.

“So, how does it feel?” Walter looks over with pizza on his face while Jackie tries to get the attention of the bartender.

“It feels great.” That’s not entirely true. Her poker face was perfected, but she couldn't fool her only friend.

“Yeah, it feels great. You’ve been telling me that for a year. But how does it feel right now?” Well I was married a year ago, I was in a decade long relationship a year ago, I was in the closet a year ago.

“How the hell do you think it feels? I’m happy, I’ve never been happier but when it comes down to it I am alone when I put my key in the door. That’s new, even after a year.”

“I know, but you’re living your most authentic life and more so… Jackie… you’re safe.” Those words hurt. Not because they made me sad but because they reminded me that for many years not only was I not strong enough to be myself; I wasn’t strong enough… literally.

“Look, I am happy. I’m doing well with my therapist. I love what the interior designer has done with my place. Feels like a whole new home. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere to rebuild. But yeah, I’m lonely.” Yuck.

“Well that’s just fine then. Being lonely is something everyone has to go through, you’ve already been through the worst of it actually.” He’s right. I hate it, but he’s usually right when giving out advice.

“This is why I keep you around Walter.” Jackie leans over the bar, properly tipsy now. “Excuse me, whenever you have the time could I please have a dry gin martini with olives, please, thank you.” Cue being unnecessarily over kind to the bartender because you want them to know you’re not a day walking nine to fiver either. The bartender asks what kind of gin, Jackie laughs and tells them the cheapest one they’ve got.

Jackie thumbed the rim of her glass waiting for Walter to get back from his phone call. She was entranced and distracted at the very same time. Memories flashed of the chaos that was the separation last year. How far she had come emotionally and intellectually. She was proud. But pride came in a painful way for her. Coming from rough terrain and an unforgivable environment from childhood and then in her marriage made pride a strange, abstract concept.

“Hey, what’s that you’re drinking?” Jackie heard from two seats down and looked up. Phewww. Down the bar sat a hell of a woman, long blonde hair with tight curls that mesmerized Jackie. She had a calming sweet face; the kind that if you saw cry you would physically harm whoever caused it.

“Uhm. It’s just a gin martini.” She said, confidently and comfortably although everything about this woman was making that difficult.

“Ah gin? So that means you’re a baddie?” Mystery woman shot back quickly with a smirk. Jackie shifted in her seat to face her.

“Yes. But not because of the gin.” Both of them started laughing and slowly catching each others eyes. It was the very first time she’d felt like this since she could remember. Walter noticed on his way back in so they continued chatting while he shot Jackie a text:


W: I see you girl, what do I do?

J: she’s beautiful right?? i’m not just tipsy?

W: you both are.

W: beautiful i mean lol

J: raincheck?

W: share your location with me so you’re safe but I’m outta here, do you!

J: okie dokie ttyl thank you for coming out

Jackie and Nichole continue their conversation about their careers. Nichole was in law school which led to a long list of inquiries and interest from Jackie. One, to keep seeing her eyes shine and two, to keep her sweet as honey voice talking.

“You’re pretty interested in the law, aspiring lawyer or ex-criminal?” Jackie sat up quickly shocked.

“Oh I didn’t mean…”

“No” Jackie let out a loud laugh. “You’re fine. I’m just interested with what you’re passionate about. I’m actually a sommelier, I run two spots in Brooklyn and Manhattan.”

“Oh no are you judgeing me and my Long Island Iced Tea?” Yes.

“No!” Jackie smirked looking back at Nichole. “Okay yes. I’m judgeing you but so is everyone here so don’t blame me.” Nichole sat up straight, twirling her straw between her purple nails.

“Well that’s just fine. I like these.” She took another long sip, staring directly at Jackie.

“As you should.” They both smiled a bit closer. The tension was killing her and she was hoping it was killing Nichole just as much.

“So do you know all the grapes?” Nichole asked.

“Not even close. Do you?”

“I vacationed in Italy once but the only thing I learned is wine is more than just a drink.” I knew I liked her. “Like, they have it all day. It’s their culture. I only know the difference between red and white. Like Merlot is red and Pinot Grigio is a white. Right?”

“Right.”

“And what’s the best wine?” You love this question.

“The best or most expensive?” Gotta clarify.

“The best. The best tasting.”

“I could taste you on the best wine in the entire world right now if you wanted to.” Was it the gin or those curls that was doing this?

“At this hour?” Nichole smiled.

“I know the perfect spot.”

They got out of the Uber in front of Jackie’s building and Nichole seemed confused. Which would be normal in this situation so Jackie grabbed her hand and let her know it was just a date and to wait in the lobby for a moment. Jackie ran across the street to the bodega and quickly returned with a big double plastic bag.

“Come on.” She grabbed Nicholes hand and led her to the elevator, then to the side stairway on the top floor.

“I don’t think it’s legal for us to be up here.”

“Well good thing I just met a lawyer.” Jackie winked but Nichole slapped her arm.

“PRE law!” Jackie laughed and they both stumbled to the rooftop door. Jackie pushed as the doors creaky rusted hinges squeezed and she wedged it open. She threw the bag up past the ladder and took a couple steps up, looking back to grab Nicholes hand.

“So, the best wine in the world huh? Up here?” Nichole scoffed playfully. Jackie unpacked two plastic glasses and a box of Merlot with the bright orange $10.99 sticker still on.

“Do you know why wine is so amazing?” She asked Nichole.

“No but I bet you could give me a hint.” Jackie popped open the box and poured out two glasses and handed one to Nichole and looked her deep in her eyes.

“Grapes come from rough terrain and an unforgivable environment, but through it all they transform into something undeniable, into culture itself.”

“So what is the ‘best wine in the world’ then?” Nichole shimmies closer to Jackie, fully intent on getting the answer.

“This.” Jackie waves to their plastic glasses of red wine.

“It’s a box of Merlot on a sketchy Brooklyn rooftop.”

“But we’re having it together.” Nichole let out a laugh and laid her head on Jackies shoulder, taking a sip and looking down at everyone on the sidewalk. Jackie took a sip, feeling a little more free but a lot less alone.